A Night to Remember
by Tinuviel Undomiel
Summary: Extreme AU: Isabelle French thought that her voyage on the Titanic would be uneventful, until she met Robert Gold and finds herself in an adventure she never expected, that includes a fateful disaster neither of them saw coming.
1. A Fated Encounter

Disclaimer: OUAT does not belong to me, sadly, but if anyone is willing to chip in and buy it for me I will not be opposed to that. The Titanic is not mine either,

A/N: I know, I'm horrible. I was never planning on starting another story, but its not my fault I swear! My muse attacked me in my sleep, and gave me a dream of Rumbelle on the Titanic. I wasn't going to do anything with it, but the idea sat in my head and wouldn't let up. So alas, here I am. It doesn't help that I've been interested in the maritime disaster since elementary school (seriously, and this was before James Cameron's movie). I hope you will all forgive me and enjoy this story.

* * *

A Night to Remember

Chapter 1: A Fated Encounter

_April 18, 1912_

It seemed wrong that so little time had been lost. It was actually the day everyone on board the _RMS Titanic_ had planned to arrive in New York, but the great ship had made excellent time and was expected to arrive early. Now they were right back at their original time, just missing the ship, their luggage, and 1,500 souls.

Belle French could feel the ship begin it's slowing for arrival. The _RMS Carpathia_ wasn't nearly as smooth on the sea as the _Titanic_. She may not have noticed had she not become attuned to the way ships moved. She could still remember when the _Titanic's_ engines had come to a stop, her journey ending in the middle of the cold Atlantic.

Many of the passengers were on deck to see the promised return to land get closer and closer, but Belle remained in her borrowed room. She took the blanket she'd been given and tightened it around her. The room was warm, but she still felt cold. Every time she shut her eyes she could remember being on that tiny lifeboat, feeling the cold air bit into her skin and freeze her tears before they could fall. Worst of all, she could remember the groaning of the ship as it raised towards the night sky, the crack as it snapped in two, the final gurgle of it's dying breath as it disappeared beneath the ocean, and the cries of the drowning for someone, _anyone_ to save them.

Sometimes she felt like she was one of them. She knew she survived, she knew she sat there on the rescue ship creeping into the harbor, but she also knew a piece of her hadn't survived. Her heart.

_"This is true love. It can't end like this."_

She had been so sure. Love like that was supposed to survive anything, could overcome any disaster. How could she have been so wrong? Belle looked at the ring she had in her palm, gold with a translucent blue stone. It was heavy, but the metal was warm from being clutched in her hand ever since the sinking. It was all she had left of him.

There was knock on the door, but Belle didn't say anything in response. A part of her hoped whoever it was would go away. "Miss?" a gentle voice said. It was the stewardess, Mary, was her name. "I brought you some hot tea."

"Thank you, Mary," Belle said.

"I also brought some soup. Mrs. Brown told me you are to eat all of it."

Molly was being stubborn as usual. She had taken on the role of Belle's guardian ever since the survivor's list was posted and Robert's name wasn't on it. She had insisted that Mary look after Belle when she couldn't. Right now she was delivering funds the Survivor's Committee had gathered to those who had lost everything in sinking.

Belle didn't want soup and she didn't want tea. The only thing she wanted was gone, brought down by the largest ship in the world. She didn't want to think about how terrible his final moments must have been. She didn't want to remember her last sight of him as she and her lifeboat were lowered into the cold, unforgiving sea. She tried to think about when she'd first seen him, when he'd bought her the blue lace shawl she kept tucked around her shoulders, the way he'd kissed her on the promenade deck, and that one glorious night they'd had before the iceberg found them.

But no matter how hard she tried, she still saw him standing on the ship as the bow was swallowed by the ocean, him struggling to swim in the icy waters, him gasping out his last breath before the sea claimed him.

"Miss?" Belle gasped when she felt Mary put one hand on her shoulder. She had been clutching his ring so hard in her palm that it pinched her flesh. The pain was enough to let her obstinate eyes finally release their tears.

"Oh, miss," Mary said, putting one arm around her shoulders, "It will be all right. Soon, everything will be back to normal."

She knew the woman was trying to be nice, but Belle knew better. Nothing would ever be the same again. The world had changed the second _Titanic_ struck that iceberg, and she had changed with it.

* * *

_April 10, 1912_

Six months ago, Belle had been eager to leave Boston and tour Europe. Now she was ready to go home. Spending every day with her cousin Cora Mills was enough to test anyone's sanity. Cora had reminded Belle on numerous occasions that she was only accompanying her and her daughter Regina because she was "family" and she had all of the good breeding to not deny that fact. Belle rather wished she had.

She had thought Europe would be a grand adventure. She'd lived most of her life in Pennsylvania with her late aunt Lydia. Her mother had died when she was very young and her father had no patience to tend to a little girl, so she'd only visited him on holidays in Boston. She had adored living in the country. Aunt Lydia had been the best surrogate mother she could have asked for. Lydia March had never married, never wanted to. She had chosen to go a different path than the high society matrons who had decided her life before she turned thirteen.

"Men think they are entitled to rule the world," she had told her one winter when she was twelve, "that's why women have to be smarter. Polish that mind of yours, Izzy, read those books you love so much. Do something with that brain God gave you, try to find a man who can appreciate that about you. Don't fall into that trap of parties and china plates. You can do so much more."

She'd tried to follow her aunt's teachings. She did read everything she could get her hands on. And while she liked parties and dancing, she wanted to be more than just some shiny bauble up for auction to the nearest bachelor. Unfortunately, finding a man who could appreciate her mind had turned into an impossible task once the choice was ripped out of her hands.

Belle stared out the window of the White Star Line train bound for Southampton. Cora was napping, a relief to both Belle and Regina. There was certainly a worse fate than being betrothed to Gaston Knightly, the man chosen for her by Cora and her great Uncle Theodore after she'd failed to catch anyone suitable. She would much rather be married to Gaston than to be Cora's daughter.

Regina was twenty-five, only five years older than Belle, but Cora was despairing over her daughter's future. She was quick to criticize her daughter on many things, primarily her inability to land a proper husband. Cora had married Henry Mills, heir to a steel monopoly, so her standards were high. Belle had watched as Cora condemned Regina's French, the way she preferred to ride astride than sidesaddle, and her two left feet when dancing. All of that had earned Regina a short temper and a lengthy ability to carry a grudge. Belle didn't dislike Regina, but she was rather difficult to get to know. Cora on the other hand was prickly and cold like a frozen rose bush.

She wasn't eager to get married, but Belle had seen enough of Europe. It had not been the adventure she had hoped. Instead she'd been watched by Cora and her great Aunt Ivy the entire time. At least now that she was soon-to-be engaged, Cora had left her alone, assuming her job was done. The _Titanic_ was her last week of freedom before she was forced to save her father by marrying a man her Aunt Lydia would never have approved of.

The train slowed at last, disturbing Cora from her slumber. Belle was the first one up, eager to get moving so she could enjoy the ship. "We have to find Daniel," Regina insisted immediately.

"He'll be with our luggage, Regina," Cora said, "Honestly, you pay far too much attention to our chauffer."

"I don't see why you couldn't have given him a first class ticket, mother," Regina said.

"Why should I? We won't have use of him while onboard. A first class ticket is expensive. Belle is lucky Theo paid for her way or I would have sent her down to steerage."

It wasn't the first not so subtle reminder that Belle was only worth her name and pretty face. Cora had pointed out Belle's lack of fortune ever since she'd collected her from her father's house. "I have a very strong sense of familial obligation," Cora said when she'd first gotten into the car six months ago, "I'm sure you're grateful for my generosity"

So Belle did what she'd done for the past six months. She gave her cousin a big, fake smile and said, "Your generosity is unparalleled, cousin Cora."

Indeed, compared to the factory workers who charge meager fees for dangerous work to their employees, Cora's generosity was unmatched by those standards.

"I have on good authority that Robert Gold has booked passage on this ship," Cora said as she urged Regina towards the exit of the train. "I want you to do your best to impress him, Regina. He would make an excellent match for you."

"Mother, he is nearly twice my age!"

"He is wealthy and available, you hardly have any reason to be choosy. Besides, I've known him for years, he's quite agreeable."

"Well, you would know that rather intimately," Belle heard Regina mutter under her breath. Belle frowned, her curiosity somewhat pricked. She'd heard of Robert Gold in the papers. He was an illustrious textile owner, who had managed to get a leg into real estate. Now he had a finger in many wealthy revenue pies, making him nearly as rich as the Astor family. She had never met the man though and hadn't been aware that Cora knew him. Well if he was an friend of Cora's then she doubted he would be at all an interest to her. Probably stuffy with the mentality that he deserved the rule the world.

Regina waved over to Daniel when she saw him handling their luggage with the steward. It really was a pity that he wouldn't he traveling with them in first class. Regina was far more agreeable when Cora wasn't around, but was actually friendly when Daniel was present. He was a nice young man, very hard-working. He was very fond of Regina, much more than Cora realized, or at least Belle hoped so. He would lose his job if she ever found how the two snuck out at night to go driving.

Belle knew her trunk and parcels were safe in Daniel's hands, so she turned attention towards the harbor. She immediately gasped at the sight.

The harbor has several ships anchored and tethered to the docks, but it was impossible to miss the _Titanic_. She towered over all of the other ships, making them look like children's toys. She was painted red and black with white upper decks. She had four gold and black funnels standing at attention like seasoned soldiers. She was truly a beautiful ship sitting in the harbor like she was queen of the ocean.

Even Regina stared at the enormous ship with a jaw-dropping look of awe. "It's amazing," she gasped.

"It is impressive, I suppose," Cora said coolly.

"It's eleven stories high," Belle said, remembering the articles she'd read in the newspaper, "the largest ship in the world."

"Honestly, Belle, you read far too much."

She bit a hole in her tongue to keep herself from screaming.

Cora led the way to the gangway that brought them up to E deck. There was the chief steward there who inspected their tickets and had another steward escort them up to D deck. They had three connecting cabins, each with their own bathroom. Belle gasped when she walked into her private room. It was as finely furnished as any hotel with a magnificent sleigh bed. There was a cherry wood writing desk tucked in the corner by a plush two seat sofa. She had her own dressing table as well. The walls had a beautiful dark paneling below and an elegant pattern up top. When she looked out her portal she could see the harbor and the sea. The bathroom was fully equipped with fluffy towels, tiny bars of scented soap, and could provide her with hot and cold water. She could have a hot bath every night if she wished.

Belle could have marveled over it all for much longer, but she was eager to see more of the ship. She heard there was a fully equipped gymnasium and even a swimming pool. She could hear Cora directing Regina on how to fix her hair properly through her adjoining door. Well, now that her trip was over it was time to begin her own adventure. Belle took off her hat and unpinned her brown curls. Let them talk about how unfashionable it was. She wanted to feel in the wind in her hair.

She giggled at her own daring before dashing out of her cabin. She didn't tell Cora where she was going.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Robert Gold hated to travel. He had tried to avoid this trip to London all together, but partners of the company had refused to deal with his lawyers. So he'd had no choice but to book the earliest passage to England to settle the deal. If the foreseeable profits had not been considerable then he wouldn't have bothered.

Now, three months later and he was anxious to return home. His son had sent him several telegrams and letters during his absence. Apparently he'd met a girl, a Miss Emma Swan, and was courting her. He was bitterly annoyed in missing another part of his son's life, even though he was twenty-six now and had inherited his independence from him. He had missed too much of Bae's life as it was because of their troubles in the past. But now he was finally in a good place with his son who was eager to play a part in his business. He wasn't ready to retire yet, if ever, but he was considering giving Bae a full partnership soon. Perhaps if he was serious with Miss Swan he would make it a wedding present.

_Titanic_ was the earliest booking back to New York. Gold preferred more veteran ships rather than vessels straight out of the shipyard. At least the _Titanic_ was a modern ship, complete with sixteen watertight bulkheads to make her unsinkable. He could appreciate her sound engineering, even if she was fresh on the water.

He had a private car bring him to the Southampton harbor. A second car carried his luggage and his valet, Kent. He couldn't very well miss the ship when the car pulled up to the dock. She was enormous, clean and elegant with fine lines and sturdy construction. Even he couldn't help but privately admit his admiration of such a glorious vessel. He supposed there were some perks by sailing on such a new ship.

He stepped out with his cane first. An old injury to his leg forced him to walk with a limp, a blow to his dignity he made up for with meticulous clothes. He tipped the driver well for his job well-done and turned to Kent who was calling a steward to deal with the luggage. He didn't carry much with him and was only returning with one extra suitcase than he'd had when he'd arrived in England. He hadn't come here to shop, but to do business. He had no wife, not since his divorce many years ago, and he was grateful for that now since Kent's job would be quite simple.

"You finish seeing to the luggage," Gold instructed him, "I'll make sure they've give us suitable accommodations."

"Yes sir."

He was careful walking the gangway with his cane, but at least the climb wasn't too steep. The stewards inspected his ticket and showed no indications of there being any problem. He saw he was on E deck when his suite was on B deck. A long climb up the stairs his leg did not particularly relish.

"You might try our elevators, Mr. Gold," the chief steward suggested.

"Thank you very much."

He was now exceedingly grateful that the ship was so modern to have elevators. They would save him a lot of trouble when walking the ship. He instructed the operator to take him to B deck. The elevator began a slow climb upwards, but stopped after going up one floor. He was about to object, when the gate suddenly open and a whirlwind of rose scented perfume and brown curls swept inside.

"Thank you very much," an enchanting voice said, "I'd like to go to A deck, please."

Gold stared at the new occupant. This wasn't a woman, she was a fairy creature sprung to life. She had the most glorious wealth of sable curls, tinged with red. Her skin was pale with a rosy complexion that set off becomingly by her green day dress. She smiled at the operator with a lush mouth that belonged on a doll not a human being. But what struck him most were her eyes. They were a startling shade of blue, the same color as the cloudless sky outside, large and rimmed with long black lashes. He had never seen such eyes before and he was quite certain he would never get tired of looking at them.

Those bewitching eyes alighted on him and that rosebud mouth turned up with a smile. "Hello," she said.

He blinked at her, for some reason unable to speak. By God she was young, so young he actually hated her for it. No, he hated himself. He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts about her beauty, not when he was old enough to be her father. But she truly was magnificent.

"_Bonjour_," the girl said again, "_êtes-vous français?_"

He was tempted to play along. Her voice was alluring in English, but far more hypnotic in French. But he gave her a slight smile and replied, "No, I'm originally from Scotland, but I live in America."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. Her cheeks bloomed with pink, making her look even more young and lovely.

"Nothing to be sorry over, dearie, I was far too entranced to return your greeting."

"Entranced by who?"

Now he couldn't help but smile. "Who else?"

Her blue eyes widened when she took in his meaning and her blush returned. "B deck, sir," the elevator operator said. He was tempted to thump the man with his cane for doing his very job.

"Thank you," he said, biting back the sting of disappointment. He wasn't quite ready to leave this enchanting creature behind. He smiled at the girl. "Thank you for riding with me, dearie. You're far lovelier to look at than these walls."

Her pretty lips opened in a silent gasp which only made him smile even more as he exited the elevator. He was quite glad he'd booked passage on the _Titanic_ now. Hopefully he'd see her again on this ship. He could fill the right pockets to find out who she was. Of course, the danger in that was she could turn out to be a pretty face with an empty head. That would be disappointing. Oh but a what a pretty thing she was. He was still smiling over her innocent blushes as he made his way to his suite.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Belle wondered if her cheeks would be permanently stained pink. There was an odd fluttering in her stomach, not an entirely unpleasant sensation. She had the urge to leap off of the elevator and join the strange man, but the operator was already closing the gate to send her on up.

He was an interesting man. Older than her, but still quite handsome. He had long brown hair that fell almost to his shoulders, so unfashionable for most men but she got the idea that he didn't care to follow the mold. He was impeccably dress in a suit of the finest linen and wool. She'd noticed he used a black cane with a gold head. His hand that had rested on the cane was adorned with a large gold ring inlaid with a translucent blue stone. He was only a little taller than her which she liked. Gaston was so tall she sometimes thought she would need to stand on a stool just to talk to him. She liked looking at a man in the eyes, and what fine eyes did he have. They were a rich, chocolate brown with a bit of amber hiding inside. His eyes had such a heat to them when he spoke to her that the just the memory of it made her blush again.

"Have a good day, miss," the elevator operator said.

"Thank you."

She knew there was a reading and writing room on A deck and a lounge where she was certain Cora would want to visit after dinner, but she chose to find them later. She immediately went to the promenade astern to look down at the docks. There were many people gathered there waving off the great ship. Passengers were also gathered out on the decks to wave goodbye to Southampton.

Six tugboats came around to help the massive ship weave it's way out of the harbor. She had thought the _Titanic_ dwarfed the other passenger liners, but she positively dominated the tiny boats. Belle wasn't entirely sure how such little boats could pull a giant ship like this one. But somehow they did, managing to slowly turn the ship away from the harbor and out towards the vast sea.

There wasn't much else to see from the aft side of the deck, so Belle moved on to the port to get a better view. The harbor was slowly moving away, but the _Titanic_ was kicking up a good wave from her propellers. Two smaller passenger ships were lashed to one side of the dock. When the massive rush of water hit them, Belle heard the snap of rope breaking. The _Titanic_ kept moving forward, but now this other ship chose to follow. It got closer and closer and closer until Belle was certain the two ships would hit.

She stepped away to brace for the impact, but then the _Titanic_ slowed down into a stop. Slowly she moved back astern towards the harbor. This gave the free floating ship move to turn away so she didn't hit the larger vessel. Belle watched as a tugboat hurried along to throw a line onto the escaping ship. The other tugs did the same until they finally had the ship under control. Now the _Titanic_ was free to continue her trek towards the ocean.

It was an unbelievable stroke of bad luck. Belle couldn't help but wonder what damage the other liner could have done to the _Titanic_. It wasn't a little tugboat, but still not near as large as the ship she now stood on. Probably it would have been only minor. Still, she shivered at how close it could have been.

The whole ordeal seemed to take no time at all, but when Belle heard the bugle call for luncheon she realized she had been out on the deck for over an hour. Her luggage could have arrived in her room by now, and since Cora and Regina had only paid for the services of one maid she would have to unpack directly after her afternoon meal. Belle dreaded the prospect as she made her way back inside. She didn't mind dressing herself or even taking care of her own room, but she always hated unpacking and repacking.

When she saw the elevators, she smiled. Perhaps the man she'd met before would be in the saloon. She could only hope.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Gold had enjoyed a late breakfast before he had arrived at the harbor, so he skipped the call for lunch and requested a light meal in his cabin. He saw no need to see who else might have embarked at Cherbourg when the ship docked in France to pick up more passengers. He had never been a social man, only did what was required of him when it came to social niceties. In that regard, dinner could not be avoided.

He dressed accordingly and let Kent retire for his own supper at the dining hall reserved for servants. The First Class dining saloon was on D deck so Gold took the elevator, not feeling the need to make an entrance on the Grand Staircase. There was a good number of elite present, lingering outside of the saloon to mingle with acquaintances. Gold saw Benjamin Guggenheim, a wealthy banker, the owner of Macy's Isidor Straus, and the current leader of the Astor clan, John Jacob Astor IV in the crowd, all business associates of his. He hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the new Mrs. Astor before the couple had embarked on their honeymoon. Her gently swelling belly indicated why their trip was cut short.

Gold was discussing his business dealings in London with Guggenheim when he heard someone call out, "Robert! How delightful to see you here!"

He clenched at the voice he recognized just before Cora Mills came up to kiss his cheek. The woman eye's sparkled with a cold light, a false smile curved her painted lips. "I had no idea you would be on this ship."

Gold recognized a lie when he saw one. She had planned this little encounter and he had a sneaking suspicion as to why.

"You remember my daughter, Regina?" she pushed the lady in question forward so he had not choice but to bow to her in greeting. His hunch was right, as always.

"Yes, but it has been some time," he said.

"Far too long," Cora said.

"They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder." If only she would remain absent. He'd last seen Cora in the summer of the previous year at some party he couldn't remember which. They had barely spoken as was their custom ever since they broke relations nearly ten years ago. He had no desire rekindle anything with her. He would much prefer to swim back to New York than sail with her.

He was left with no choice but to greet them both with clenched teeth and suppressed a snarl when Cora left to speak with Lady Duff Gordon. "You and Regina hardly know one another," she said, "Do talk. I think you'll have a lot in common."

One look at Regina told him she wasn't happy about this either. She was wringing her hands and glaring at her mother's back. He knew the girl was getting up there in years, but he didn't realize Cora was desperate enough to hope he'd take an interest in her. She was delusional. Even if he were looking for a wide, which he wasn't, he certainly would not pick the daughter of a former paramour.

"Have you had a pleasant tour of Europe, Miss Mills?" he asked because he had to do something besides stand there in awkward silence."

"Pleasant enough," she said it like the words cut her teeth.

"I'm delighted to hear it," he said. He was going to kill Cora for this. Perhaps he could discreetly slip away with the notion he had to say something to Straus about a card game.

"I trust your son is well?" Regina asked. At least that was considerate of her.

"Very well," Gold said, "I'm eager to get back to him." And tell him that he is free to marry any woman he wishes, as long as she is not a Mills.

He didn't dislike Regina. He didn't know her all that well, but he could already see she at least had some warmth to her unlike her frigid mother. He wished no ill on her, but he had no desire to be Cora's son-in-law. Thankfully, she seemed just as appalled by the idea.

"I'm eager to return home too," she said, "I miss my horse. Daniel assured me the grooms will take care of her, but you can never be certain."

Gold blinked at the unfamiliar name. "Daniel? Is he a relative of yours?" He knew Regina didn't have a brother, a cousin, maybe?

"Oh no, he's our chauffer," Regina said. A tint of pink bloomed on her cheeks. "But he's close to family for us."

He almost laughed at the notion. Cora? Making family with the servants? Heaven forbid she align herself with her origins. But he didn't mistake the sweet tone Regina spoke of this Daniel. Well, it looks like he discovered the reason for her lack of interest in him. He'd love to see Cora's reaction when she found out about her daughter's association with the hired help. She'd likely have a heart attack if she knew. One could only hope.

Regina continued to talk about Daniel as any lovesick girl would, but he didn't listen to her. He was anxious to get away. Soon they would have to go to the saloon and he sure as hell didn't want to have to escort her or Cora. He was seriously considering making a swift retreat back to his room under the excuse of having forgotten something. His eyes drifted up longingly to the magnificent staircase. His eyes widened at what he found.

The woman he share an elevator with was snow standing at the top of the staircase. He had thought she looked pretty that morning in her traveling dress, she looked absolutely ravishing in the blue and cream evening gown. The rich blue at the shoulders and bodice of the dress brought out the sparkling color in her eyes. While the cream skirt, embroidered with gold and blue, made her skin look glow like candlelight. He couldn't look away. She had him hypnotized.

"Oh there she is," Regina's voice finally reached his ears. The woman had met his gaze, and…she looked pleased to see him. Was that a blush that still lingered on her cheek? He smiled at the thought.

"Belle, what took you so long?" Regina asked when the lady was in earshot. He actually frowned at Regina. How did she know her?

"I'm sorry, Regina, but with Fiona helping all three of us, it took her a little time to help me dress. I didn't realize Cora was so impatient to get down to dinner," she spoke in that beautiful, lilting voice. She never took her eyes off of him.

"Oh, Belle, this is Mr. Robert Gold," Regina began the introductions. He saw by the lift in her brows that she recognized his name. "Mr. Gold, this is my cousin Miss Isabelle French."

Miss French smiled at him and held up one gloved hand. He took it and gave it a gentle shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss French."

"I have heard a lot about you, Mr. Gold."

"You'll have to tell me so I can sort out the lies from the truth," he said with a smile.

"I read about your rivalry with George Spencer," she said, "Did you really call him a 'flea on a pile of elephant dung'?"

His brows rose to his hairline and a chuckle escaped him before he could stop. My, she was a frank young woman. He could admire boldness, especially in one so young. "Indeed, though it wasn't meant to be repeated to lovely ladies like yourself."

She smiled again. "If it helps, I quite agree with your opinion of the man. He is decidedly insufferable."

He knew right then that he liked this young woman. She wasn't afraid to have her own opinions, but she wasn't the cool viper like Cora. She was a gentler sort, but just as bold and strong.

"I was unaware of Cora having any cousins," he said, "A pity we have never met before."

"My mother was the late Xavier Mills' niece," she said, "Regina is my second cousin."

"Ah," that explained how Cora had never introduced them, but not why she had agreed to chaperone the girl through Europe. "Do you live in New York?"

"No, Boston," she admitted, "but I spent most of my childhood in Pennsylvania with my aunt after my mother died."

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss."

She shook her head. "It was a very long time ago. Now I am returning home to my father."

"And has your trip in Europe been everything you hoped?"

Her brow furrowed a bit as she thought about her answer. "I had hoped to see more of the world beyond a ballroom, that didn't really work out, but I did enjoy myself as much as I could."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Now he could see everyone moving towards the dining saloon. It appeared in the middle of his conversation with Miss French that Regina had wandered off to speak with Madeline Astor. His lips curled up in a pleased smile. "May I escort you to your table?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," she said and gladly accepted his arm.

The dining room tables were numbered and guests were expected to sit at their assigned table. Gold's table was number seventeen. He asked Miss French where she was assigned to sit and she voiced up the same number. He knew that couldn't be a coincidence. Cora must have had that arranged as well, but he didn't care. Now he had the perfect dinner companion for the evening. Only Cora stood in the way of that.

He could see right away that she was trying to trap Regina into sitting next to him. He couldn't exactly wait to pull out Belle's chair, but once she was seated he knew Cora was going to push Regina into the other chair. He was saved by an entirely unlikely source.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around. "Robert Gold, right?" a boisterous woman said, "You know my husband, J. J. Brown."

"Oh yes," he said. He'd met the Colorado mine owner when he went out west to consider investment into one of the mines. He was a quiet sort of man, very much salt of the earth, but likeable. He never met Brown's wife because they had separated amicably in '09, but he had spoken affectionately of her during their brief acquaintance. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Brown."

"Oh please, call me Molly," she insisted, a large smile on her face, "Jim mentioned you in his letter, said you were nice to your friends, deadly to your enemies, and have excellent taste in scotch. With all of that in your box, I figured I should make your acquaintance."

"I'm delighted to meet your approval," he said and then ushered towards an empty chair, "please sit."

"My, and a gentleman to boot," she said with a laugh. Now with her in a chair, he was happy to take up the seat between her and Miss French. Cora wasn't going to win this round. He even raised his glass towards her in a mocking toast, relishing her furious scowl.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Molly proved be quite the conversationalist, not afraid to bring up any subject or jump her way in into any topic. Miss French wasn't quite as vocal, but she could carry on with the dinner conversations. He wondered what she might be passionate about, but that was answered when Straus mentioned a French writer who was working to publish a lengthy novel of his soon.

"He shows a great deal of promise," he said, "Mark my word, Marcel Proust will replace Hugo as the greatest French writer of all time." He let out a chuckle. "Which wouldn't be hard, that revolutionary piece of Hugo's was utter drivel."

Gold felt the young lady tense next to him. "I'm not sure I agree, Mr. Straus," she began politely, "I'm sure you're right about Monsieur Proust's capabilities, but I suspect Hugo's work will not be eclipsed. His writing is far too vibrant, and he was never afraid to dabble into subjects that others shy away from."

"Are you saying you've read Hugo's works?" Straus looked utterly perplexed by a notion that a woman could read.

She nodded. "_Les Misérables_ is one of my favorite books. Hugo captured such amazing characters and truly wrote an inspiring piece that speaks to the heart."

"He spoke of disassembling a government," Straus said, "That is anarchy."

"No, that is a revolution. Our country had one as well."

"Not like that."

Miss French smiled a little. "I beg to differ. In 1770, five citizens in Boston were killed for being revolutionary, one of the many sparks that stared our break from Britain. Our own founding fathers agreed that it is a citizen's duty to overthrow a government that has become corrupt. Hugo showed us a depiction of just that, ordinary people fighting to end the corruption of their government."

Straus turned a vivid shade of red, but Gold smiled at Miss French's success. She was quite intelligent. "You got him on the ropes, girl!" Molly cried with glee.

"Forgive my cousin," Cora broke in to say, "She is very passionate when it comes to her books. I'm certain she meant no offense."

"None at all, just expressing my own opinion," Miss French said.

The matter was dropped when Mrs. Straus mentioned their plans to expand more of their department store in the city, perhaps open up another. Business worked to get the men interested, while the ladies discussed the latest fashions in Europe. Gold noticed that Miss French showed little interest in the trivial topics.

"Même la nuit la plus sombre et se terminera le soleil se lèvera," he said quietly to her.

He heard her slight gasp. "You've read _Les Misérables_?"

"Indeed, and I quite agree with you. I find it to be the superior of Hugo's works."

"Yes," she said, "My father disapproved entirely when he found me reading it. He said it wasn't appropriate for young ladies. Then again, I suspect he disapproved of the notion of me reading to begin with."

"You like to read then?"

"Books are my favorite thing in all the world," she said with a wistful tone to her voice, "I would much rather spend my time in a library than a ballroom."

"Then you are unique among debutantes," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

He let out a chuckle. "You most definitely should."

* * *

_April 18, 1912_

At last, the _Carpathia_ ended her journey and docked in the New York harbor at the Cunard pier. All of the passengers were gathered to leave the vessel, but Captain Rostron insisted that his passengers should disembark first so they would not be crushed by the tumult of questions and reporters that was sure to be out there. Belle didn't care. She would gladly stay on the ship forever. She knew once she left she would be forced to live again and that was not her wish.

Molly Brown had hugged her tight and promised to write her soon before she returned Belle to her cousins. Cora was eager to leave the ship, but Regina looked just as miserable as her. Both had loved and lost on the _Titanic_.

Finally, it was time for the survivors to make their appearance in America. First class was allowed out before any of the others, a practice which seemed unfair to Belle after what they had endured. They slowly moved forward as they inched towards the exit. Belle could hear the roar of a thousand questions just outside, like a colony of bees hovering around the hive.

They finally reached the gangway and she could see the crowd of reporters and onlookers. Bulbs from hundred of cameras blinded her. She stared at them all, hating every single one of them. _Go away_, she thought_,_ _people are dead and all you want is a headline_.

But they had no choice but to move into the crush of chaos. Questions flew through the air like punches. "What's your name?" "How did you suvive?" "How many people were lost?" "What do you think of this disaster?"

Belle put her hands over her ears to block them out. She just wanted to go far away from this place, away from these horrible people.

Cora waved them away and carried them out of the crowd to where another sort had gathered. Belle could see Madeline Astor with her stepsons, as well as other passengers reuniting with their worried families. Belle searched the crowd for one face in particular. She had never been close to her father before, but now his was the only face she wanted to see.

At last she found him, pushing his way through. She broke free from her cousins and called out, "Papa!" just as she had when she went home for Christmas as a child. He opened his arms for her and she buried her face into his chest.

"Take me home," she begged him, "Take me home."

"Of course, Belle," he whispered into her hair. Cora and Regina walked up to them both, but Belle knew a car would be waiting for them as they had no other family. "Thank you for looking out for her."

"Well it turned out to be quite a trip," Cora said, "I'm glad it is over."

Moe French smiled into his daughter's face. "You have no idea how worried I was for you. Gaston was beside himself when we heard about the sinking."

Gaston. The mention of her waiting fiancé made fresh tears fill her eyes. She didn't want him to be waiting for her. She only wanted one man, but he was gone now. Everything had changed in such a short span of time, so much joy ripped away all in an instant.

"There, there, sweetheart, we'll go home and everything will be all right."

_No_, Belle thought, _it won't._

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

The reporters lingered for the second-class passengers, but few stayed behind to question the third class survivors who disembarked. There were none to greet those who were still injured from the disaster. Those poor souls were immediately escorted to the nearest hospital. Including the one man, still unconscious and yet to be identified.

"There's little hope for this one," the doctor of the _Carpathia_ said to the men who came to collect him, "But he's lasted this long, which has surprised me. Perhaps he may come around."

"Any idea who he is?"

"None, I'm afraid. They thought he might be a crewman, but his clothes weren't a uniform, though they were ruined so it's hard to say. All I know is he said something about a bell before he lost consciousness fully."

"Wonder what that is about."

The poor man could not answer their queries.

* * *

Historical Notes: I actually have no idea where the gangway from the Titanic began. One book I read suggested it was on B deck, but since I so wanted Belle and Gold to meet on elevator I decided to make it on E deck.

There really was a near collision with another steamer, the _New York_, just as Titanic was departing Southampton. Many now see is as a bad omen for what was to come.

The Titanic really was scheduled to reach New York on April 18, but reports suggest she was going to arrive early on the 17th instead. Of course, that never happened.

Another note some of you may not know, the famous unsinkable Molly Brown was NEVER called Molly. Her actual nickname was Maggie, the name Molly came about when the writer of the musical decided the Unsinkable Maggie Brown just didn't have that zing. However, I chose to keep her nickname as Molly because everyone knows her as that nowadays.

A/N:So who do you think the unconscious man is? Any guesses? LOL. I'll be switching in and out of the the voyage and what follows after. Eventually things will shift to where there will be no more flashbacks to the voyage, but the disaster will continue to play a pivotal role until the conclusion, I promise. Please, tell me what you think.

Next chapter: Belle returns home and has to dodge reporters, her fiance and her father who are all eager to hear more about the disaster. Back on the Titanic, Belle and Gold talk some more and Regina shares with Belle some interesting history Cora has with Mr. Gold.


	2. Unforgettable

Disclaimer: If I owned Once Upon a Time, Rumple and Belle would be married and have triplets. Can you imagine that brood?

A/N: I'm back! I couldn't put this story down. Lots of good stuff in this one, and it's a bit longer than the last chapter. I hope all of you like it.

**Anonymous Reviews:**

**Guest: **LOL, you should read Diane Hoh's _Titanic The Long Night. _It's a great fictional book about two couples on _Titanic_ that doesn't end in tragedy...well beyond the disaster itself. No, he won't die. This story isn't so much about the the _Titanic_ as it is about moving on with life after that tragedy. So glad you liked it.

**Rebekah Kroeplin:** I am not basing this story off of the movie. I do like the movie, but I did not want this to be a carbon copy of Jack and Rose's story. This is all my own and based off what historical facts, not James Cameron's dramatic story. I like to include a historical note at the end of these chapters so I can point out what little things are true and what I made up. I'm so glad you like this story.

**anon:** Aww, thank you so much. Don't worry about Maggie/Molly Brown. If she'd been alive, I'm sure she'd have gotten a kick out of it. I'll let you in on a funny story about the real Margaret Brown. She reached legendary status after the sinking, so much that eventually a folk writer published a story in a magazine about how she hid her husband's money from the gold mine in the stove, then when her husband came home he wound up lighting the cash on fire. (this was in the musical as well, and Cameron's movie has Molly sharing the story to the dinner party). Now, the story isn't true, but Margaret thought it was so funny that she actually let everyone think it was true, claiming that it wasn't paper money that was burned, but gold coins and they had to break the stove to remelt the gold and get it all out. Her daughter asked her why she let people tell the story as fact, and Margaret said, "It's better that they write something about me rather than nothing."

**prttykitty7728:** Aw, thanks so much for reading. I hope you like this chapter just as much.

* * *

Chapter 2: Unforgettable

_April 20, 1912_

Belle's bed was empty. It wasn't an unusual occurrence in the past. Often she fell asleep on the chaise by her window with a book in her hand. But not this morning. She wasn't on her chaise. Instead she was huddled in her blanket in the corner of her bedroom, muffling her sobs with her hand.

She had hardly slept since the night the _Titanic_ vanished beneath the ocean. But last night her father had convinced her to take a sleeping powder. She had finally managed to sleep, but woke up at three in the morning gasping out Robert's name. She'd seen him drowning in that black sea, him fighting his way to a surface that was just out of reach, him sinking away down, down, down with that great ship.

Robert was dead. Four glorious days was all they'd had.

_"Four days is not enough time, but know that I have loved you for four lifetimes in those days." _

"Four lifetimes isn't enough," Belle whispered to her empty room, "It's not enough."

There was a knock at the door. "Belle?" her father's sounded muffled through door. "Are you all right?"

Belle bit back another sob. "Fine, father," she choked out.

"Gaston is joining us for breakfast, won't you come down?"

"I'm almost ready," she said, hoping her voice wasn't too shaky, "I'll be right down."

Belle didn't want to go down for breakfast, especially not with Gaston. She was grateful that her father had yet to publish their engagement. She couldn't go through with it. She couldn't be Gaston's wife, not when the only man she ever wanted was gone. She would never be able to forget Robert's kiss, his arms around, the look in his eye after she told him she loved him.

But the sun was up and she had no choice but to dress and make her way to the breakfast nook. Her father was still trying to hide their dire need for money, so he had yet to pawn off anything in their public rooms. The cook was still producing delectable meals, but Belle's maid was gone as was her father's valet.

"Ah, there she is," her father said like she was the birthday girl arriving at her party, "our survivor."

Belle could not even fake a smile. She didn't embrace her father back when he hugged her and kissed her cheek. She slithered into her seat without even looking at her fiancé. She wanted to go back to her room where the day didn't have to be faced.

"You have no idea how happy I was to hear you were alive," Gaston said. She doubted it would have meant much to him even if she were dead. He could have found some other debutante, perhaps one that actually enjoyed the idea of having a husband who preferred hunting over everything else.

"Yes, I'm having cook prepare a special dinner tonight for us to celebrate," Moe announced, "I'm sure Belle would be delighted if you came."

"I don't want to celebrate," she whispered.

"But Belle, we must give our thanks."

"People died, father," she reminded him, "That isn't something to be thankful for."

"But you survived, my dear girl. Yes, it was a tragedy what happened, but it is also a blessing that you came back to us." He smiled as the servant set his boiled egg in front of him.

Belle stared at her breakfast that was set in front of her and knew she wouldn't eat a bite. Not when she could still hear the screams whenever she shut her eyes.

"Did you hear that there is to be an investigation?" Gaston said eagerly, like it was a tennis match, "Ismay is being called to question for the whole matter."

Moe nodded. "I understand a number of the families are suing. I'm tempted to do the same."

"What?" Belle gasped.

"You were promised a safe journey, my sweet," he reminded her, "and you could have died. I think we deserve some compensation for their mistake."

"You want to sue them?" Belle shook her head at the thought. "How much am I worth to you alive, father? A million? Two? Perhaps you would have rather I died then you could have filed an insurance claim on me as well as sue White Star Line. Maybe you could get five million then."

"Belle!" her father snapped, "How dare you say such a thing?"

"Because I was there," she replied, "I dare because nothing matters anymore after seeing fifteen hundred people die in front of you!"

She shoved away from the table and abandoned the breakfast room. She heard her father call her name, but she didn't stop. She returned to her room, locking the door behind her. The pale blue lace shawl was on the bed where she'd left it when she changed. Now she grabbed it and buried her face in it, soaking it with her tears.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

The survivors still in need of medical attention were given over to the New York hospital or to the red cross. Doctor Whale had been warned earlier of the influx of patients from the disaster, but still it was a lot to handle. He already had a number of patients on his rotation, but none was a interesting as the unidentified survivor.

"He was brought aboard the _Carpathia_ unconscious," one of the orderlies explained, "No one thought he would make it back here alive. Doctor onboard said he doesn't think he'll ever wake up."

The man was recovering from severe hypothermia, not to mention a bad blow to the head. It was entirely possible he would never wake, but his vital signs were better. All anyone could do was wait and pray.

Two days after the _Carpathia_ delivered the survivors to America, the papers were still printing about the disaster. Whale was reading an interview about the upcoming investigation into the sinking when one of the nurses bolted into his office. "Doctor Whale, come quick! That man is waking up!"

He abandoned his paper and hurried down to the critical care unit. There was another nurse at the man's bedside taking his pulse. The man himself was stirring in the bed, muttering incoherently. "He opened his eyes for a second," she said, "He's still groggy. His pulse is a little low, but better than it was."

"Looks like our survivor is coming around." Finally the mystery would be solved. Whale took out his penlight and shined into the man's eyes. "Hello, I'm Doctor Whale." The pupils were responding, all good signs.

"Wha—?"

"Doctor Whale," he said his name again, "Can you tell me your name?"

The man didn't say anything. "Do you know where you are? What ship you were on?" Nothing. He'd drifted away again.

"Keep him warm and send for me when he rouses again," Whale said. It turned out the page wasn't necessary. Whale was doing his rounds three hours later and decided to try checking the man's eyes again when the patient blinked at the suddenly light.

"What was that?" the man said hoarsely.

Whale smiled down at him. "Welcome back, sir. You left us for a little while."

"I did?"

"Yes, but you're moving along much better now. Are you thirsty? How about some water?"

The man nodded in response. Whale took the pitcher and poured a cup of water. He held up the cup to help him drink, he was still too weak to sit up. He dribbled some onto to his chin and nightclothes. Whale took a clean rag and wiped it up.

"Can you tell me your name?" The man frowned a bit, blinking a few times. "It's all right if you can't remember, temporary amnesia is one of the side effects of hypothermia and you received quite a blow to the head."

"Did I fall in the Thames?"

"The river?" Whale questioned, "No sir, it was the ocean. Where do you think you are?"

"I must be in London."

Whale shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you're in New York."

The man frowned at him. "That's impossible."

"I'm afraid not, you see you were on the _Titanic_. Do you remember that?"

"I booked passage, I think. I was on the ship?"

"Yes you were. That's why you're here, the ship sank."

"It did?"

Whale nodded. "You're very lucky to have survived."

The man blinked at him. "How many died?"

Whale looked away for a moment and then shook his head. "Let's focus on something else. Can you tell me what you were doing in London?"

"Business, I was investing in a soap company."

"Very good, your memory is getting clearer. Can you try telling me your name?" The man frowned again and squeezed his eyes shut. "That's okay, maybe some of your personal effects will help jog your memory."

Whale called for a nurse to bring the man's personal items. She brought by a little tray that contained two gold cufflinks, a silver pocket watch, and the blue silk ribbon. "You didn't have much on you, I'm afraid. That's why we've been trying to figure out who you are."

The man selected the silver watch, but his hands trembled too much to open it. Whale did that for him. "It looks like you have a son."

The man nodded, staring hard at the picture. "Bae," he whispered.

"Bae?"

"Bailey, that's his name, he goes by Neal."

"Good, do you remember his full name."

"Bailey Neal Gold." The man blinked a few times, "Robert."

"Yes?"

"That's my name, Robert James Gold."

Whale smiled at him. "Well, Mr. Gold, it's a pleasure to meet you."

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

For once Emma Swan was glad her parents died when she was young because no one could tell her she shouldn't be here. Neal had been steadily drinking the bar dry at his home ever since he got word that his father had not survived the sinking. She had stayed there for the past two nights, in a guest room of course, not that she cared what people thought about her in a time like this.

She had told Neal she understood his loss. Both of her parents had died in a train accident when she was seven years old. He wasn't rude or suggested that she wouldn't understand, but she could tell she wasn't doing much good. He spoke for hours about how he and Robert had a bad relationship in the past, ever since his mother died. But just a few years ago they had reconciled and gotten closer.

"There are things I never got to say to him," he told her the night before, "I wanted him to meet you. Now he never will, he'll never know his grandchildren or anything."

She was doing her best, but she knew from experience that time was the only cure for grief. But loss was a wound that never fully healed.

The phone rang in the study as she was walking past it. Neal was still drinking in his father's room so she decided to answer it for him. It was probably a reporter or some society biddy anxious to get in her "I'm sorry for your loss" before the others. She was trying to keep Neal away from that mess, often giving such people a good "Leave him the hell alone" before hanging up.

"Gold residence," she said when she picked up the receiver.

"Hello, this is Doctor Victor Whale of the Sister's of Mercy Hospital. I need to speak with a Bailey Gold."

"He's indisposed, may I take a message?"

"Well, this isn't exactly news that should be left in a message. Is he nearby?"

"You can tell me what it is and then I'll see if he should know. He's grieving right now," Emma said.

"It's about his father."

Emma's hand clenched around the receiver. "Look, if you're another reporter wanting a comment than I've got a comment for you: go straight to hell."

"No, miss, I'm not a reporter. I am a doctor at the hospital. I'm trying to inform Mr. Gold that his father is alive."

Emma froze, her heart dropping to her stomach in one swoop. "Is this a joke?"

"No, miss. The elder Mr. Gold has been in a coma from the hypothermia and we had no way to identify him. He just woke up and I want to…"

Emma dropped the phone and ran out of the study. "Neal! Neal!" She was so grateful Robert Gold had his room on the same floor as his study because of his bad leg. It wasn't a far distance to his bedroom. Neal sat on his father's bed his head in his hand. "Neal, you have to come quick!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Emma, what's going on?"

"Just come on!" She didn't let go of his hand. He tried to pull away, but she just yanked him even harder until they reached the study. She grabbed the receiver and put it in his hand.

"What is this?"

"Just answer the man."

Neal gave her a mutinous look, but spoke into the phone. "Hello?…Yes that's me." Emme watched as all of the color drained from his face. "Are you serious? He's alive!" Then Neal's face broke out into a smile. "Oh my God! Thank you, thank you so much, sir…Yes, I'll be right there immediately. Thank you again!"

He hung up the phone and then grabbed Emma, whirling her off of her feet with a laugh before kissing her. "I can't believe it! I knew he was a fighter, but I really thought he was gone."

"I'm so happy for you," she said, kissing him again, "Now call up Dove to bring the car. I'm ready to meet him."

* * *

_April 11, 1912_

The morning dawned bright and beautiful as the _Titanic_ steamed her way towards Queenstown, Ireland. Belle was eager to get up top and see the emerald green island for herself. Breakfast, though delicious, had been a disappointing affair for one reason: Mr. Gold wasn't present. She supposed to took his meal in his room or went to the A La Carté restaurant. Still, she was sad to be stuck alone with Cora and Mr. Guggenheim. Although Thomas Andrews joined them, and he told her all about the ship he had designed. Mr. Ismay wasn't nearly as interesting. Not a bad sort, she supposed, but gleaming with arrogance over his ship.

Belle returned to her room only to smooth down her hair. It was warmer today so she didn't think she would need a jacket. She was just about to leave again when she heard a knock on the adjoining door. "Come in," she said as she stifled a groan. Had Cora come to ruin her plans?

It turned out to be Regina who quickly shut the door behind her, turning the lock for good measure. "Belle, I need your help."

"Of course," she said, "What is it?"

"I want to join Daniel for lunch today. He's agreed to meet me in the dining hall in second class, but I can't let Mother know."

"She'd lock you up for the rest of the voyage," Belle agreed. Regina was certainly playing a dangerous game allowing the chauffer to court her. But anyone could see how much in love they were. Perhaps Regina would have the courage to tell her mother someday. Belle certainly hoped so. Regina deserved to have some happiness.

"Please, tell her I have a miserable headache and I am resting," Regina begged her, "I'll be up for dinner, I promise. I just want this afternoon with Daniel."

"Of course I will," Belle said, "but let's make it look real. Go tell Cora you need to lie down, put on a good show of feeling poor."

"No," Regina said with a shake of her head, "If I do that she'd likely to lock me in my room."

"If you don't she's more likely to come down here and make sure you're in your room after I tell her. Tell her now so she won't be suspicious." Belle went to her dressing table and pulled out the little silver key. "She'll lock your room, but not mine. Use my key to come in and out of my room."

Regina smiled and snatched the key. "Yes! That's brilliant! Thank you, Belle. I promise I'll make this up to you."

"No need to worry about that now," Belle said, "Now I do believe you are feeling poorly."

"Yes, I am," Regina gave her one last conspiratorial smile before returning to her room.

Regina had become much more friendly after she began to court Daniel in earnest. She had never been cruel to Belle, but not exactly kind either. Mostly she had ignored her in their previous encounters before Europe. In their first week at great Uncle Theo's manor in France, Regina had snuck out at night, but used Belle's shoes so it appeared to have been her who was escaping. But love had changed her, made her more dependent on Belle's aid and silence, and they'd become something akin to friends.

Yes, she did hope Daniel and Regina found a way to be together when they returned to New York. He brought out the best in her, which was far more than her mother did.

Belle left before Cora could find her and ruin her mood. She didn't bother with a hat, it was far too nice out, even if it was unfashionable. It was bright and sunny outside and she didn't care if she freckled.

The ship was anchored away from the port. Tenders were scuttling about to bring aboard new passengers and mail. Belle was surprised at first how busy the promenade deck was. A good deal of first and second class passengers were walking around. Some were looking at the tenders or admired the beautiful green island before them. Most were more interested in the makeshift stalls set up on the deck.

Apparently, a series of bumboats had swirled around the large steamer and the captain had decided to let a few onboard. Now these merchants were hawking their wares of fine Irish lace, linens, ceramics, and porcelain.

Belle didn't have any cash, but it would be fun just to look. She received several looks for having her hair uncovered, but she didn't care. These were her last days of freedom before duty and family made her little more than property. She was looking over a set of porcelain plates when she heard several people shout.

She followed the array of pointing fingers to look at the fourth funnel on the massive ship. At the very top a man was inside, poking his sooty head out for all to see. He gave them all a big, toothy grin. His white teeth contrasted up against the black on his face. Belle couldn't help but gasp at the sight. How could he do that? Wouldn't the funnel's be too hot from the smoke of the boilers?

"It's just a joke, dearie," a rich brogue whispered into her ear. The prankster ducked back down into the steel tube, probably laughing at them all. "The funnel is fake."

Belle relaxed, almost sighing back towards Mr. Gold. "Oh," she said in relief, "Yes, that's right. Mr. Andrews mentioned that to me this morning at breakfast. He said it is used only for ventilating the engine room."

"And to make the ship more appealing to the eye," Gold added.

Belle turned around to look at him. "How did you know it wasn't functional?"

"I noticed it didn't produce black smoke like the other three funnels."

Her brows lifted at his response. "How observant of you."

"Part of being a good businessman is observation," he said with a smile. She supposed that was one reason he father had failed to keep up the family fortune, he had never been perceptive to small details.

"I take it you are a master of observation then," Belle said. They started walking along the promenade together, close enough so they could continue talk.

His grin could only be described as wolfish. "Undoubtedly."

"No sense of modesty, I see."

"Just speaking the truth, Miss French."

She laughed a little. He really was quite charming, very easy to talk to. She was never a shy person, but she often found it difficult to flow into such easy conversation. Primarily because she didn't stick to the normal topics of polite conversation. She didn't follow the rules of "always agree with the man" or the endless debate of fashion and gossip. She had nearly fallen asleep when Gaston had regaled his hunting stories to her. Mr. Gold wasn't like Gaston. He actually listened to her when she talked and seemed to respect her own opinions.

"I'm glad I found you again," she admitted, "I was disappointed that you weren't down for breakfast."

"Were you?" he said, sounding surprised but his lips were curled into a grin, "My apologies then."

"Were you hoping to see some of Ireland as well?"

"Not particularly," he said, "I was actually hoping to see you."

Belle glowed with warmth at his words. She had never been like this before. Oh, she'd enjoyed conversations with men, but she'd never felt so fluttery inside. Certainly never with Gaston. "You're rather frank," she said, but smiled at him.

"At my age, what is the point of parlor games?"

"I never cared for such tricks," she admitted. She had endured the endless dance of courtship for six months. She much preferred Mr. Gold's bold words to Gaston's sugar coated flattery.

Belle frowned a little as she realized she was making a habit of comparing her soon-to-be fiancé with Mr. Gold. Gaston was always falling short. This wouldn't do. Gaston wasn't so bad, a bit shallow and perhaps not as intelligent, but he was nice enough. Still…she couldn't imagine talking about Victor Hugo with him. There was no harm in making a friend on this voyage. Just a friend.

"Do you have the time?" she asked him, "I have to be sure Cora doesn't go into Regina's room when it's time for luncheon."

One dark brow lifted. "I'm intrigued. Let me guess, your cousin has gone to second class to spend time with her chauffer."

Belle's mouth dropped open. "How did you know that?"

He grinned like puppy that stole the last strip of bacon. "I told you, I'm a master of observation." He pulled out a silver pocket watch and opened the lid. "It's a quarter past eleven."

Belle could see the face of the clock on one side, but the other had a picture of a boy. He was a handsome lad with a mane of untamed, dark hair. He looked to be about twelve in the picture.

"Is that your son?"

Gold nodded and smiled down at the picture. "Bae, of course he's a bit older now."

"Oh?"

"Twenty-six."

"Oh," Belle said again, blushing, "He's six years older than me."

Now it was Gold's turn to be surprised. "I didn't realize…you have the composure of someone much older."

"Then I suppose age is insignificant," she said. She didn't want him to look at her and see a child. She certainly didn't look at him and see someone who could be her father.

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

She hoped he meant that, though she shouldn't. It shouldn't matter to her that he didn't see her as a child, she was taken. And if he had a son…did that mean he was married?

"Is your wife back in New York?" It wasn't subtle, but she wasn't good at that sort of thing.

He probably noticed her blatant interest, but all he showed was another half-smile. "No, we divorced when Bae was only four. She died ten years later."

"Oh," she said. She ignored that bit of relief she felt. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yes, Bae was upset. I'm afraid I had lost much of any good feeling with Milah. We didn't have a good marriage in the end."

"That is still a shame," this time she meant it.

"I'm afraid I'm not as forgiving as most, especially when it comes to betrayal."

Belle blushed a bit. "I…I didn't realize that she had…that…" She couldn't finish it. She didn't really want to touch such a delicate subject.

"It's does not matter now," he said, but she wasn't sure if he believed that, "Though I don't' believe I'll ever forgive her for leaving our son."

"Yes, I suppose I can understand that," Belle said. She hadn't meant for him to tell her something so personal and painful. She could see the hard look in his eyes and the white knuckle grip on his cane. His wife's betrayal left a scar on him. She couldn't help but wonder how difficult he found it to trust people. And yet, he had told her of this, a near stranger.

"Are you close to your son?" that seemed like a safe topic."

"Recently, yes," he said, "though in the past we had some difficulties."

"Oh." It seemed she'd chosen poorly again.

"I'm not entirely sure why I'm tell you this," he finally confessed, "I don't usually talk about my past with anyone."

Belle stopped, put one hand on his arm, and smiled. "I don't mind. I'd like to get to know you better."

"Yes, I'd like that too."

So he told her about his son, how he was the best thing in his life. She noticed her focused on happier memories, but she didn't mind that. Mr. Gold had endured a lot and clearly didn't like to dwell on his past mistakes. He'd already told her enough sad moments of the past. She much preferred his optimism for his future.

They walked along the promenade, occasionally stopping to look at the wares for sale. Soon the merchants would have to return to the bumboats so the _Titanic_ could be underway. There was one stall that had lace items for sale. There were lace doilies, caps, even jackets. Mr. Astor was inspecting one lace jacket, but Belle found herself taken with a shawl.

It was lovely Irish lace, but dyed a cornflower blue. It was beautiful, and though she picked over the other items in the stall, her eyes kept returning to the shawl. "How much is this?" she asked. She didn't really have any money, but maybe she could make some sort of deal.

"Two hundred pounds."

Belle winced at the number. Even if she negotiated there was no way she could afford the shawl. She put it back on the rack, swallowing her disappointment. She was prepared to move on, but Mr. Gold surprised her by stepping in and picking up her shawl. He studied it for a while and then shook his head. "I'd give you fifty pounds for this, and that's generous."

"No sir!" the merchant complained, "That there is the finest Irish lace ya can find. It worth a wee bit more than fifty pounds. I might be willin' to part wi' it for one-fifty."

"Seventy five."

"Ya a hard bargainer, sir. I give it to ya for one and twenty-five pounds."

"I won't go over a hundred."

"A hundred! One twenty five is generous."

Gold stood there unmoved. He just fixed the man with a long, opaque stare that would have made Belle shiver had it been directed at her. The merchant glared at him back, but nodded. "Fine, sir. One hundred."

Gold pulled out his billfold and removed the proper amount. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Same to you, sir."

Gold held out the blue lace to Belle. "For you."

Belle shook her head, though her hands ached to hold it. "No, I couldn't possibly accept it."

"I insist. It would look terrible on me."

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out. "Really, you shouldn't have, Mr. Gold."

"Nonsense," he said as she adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, "It is almost as pretty as you."

It was far too personal of a gift, not to mention his comment, but Belle could feel nothing but pleasure. Why did the rules of society dictate what was appropriate and what was not? He wasn't saying anything too forward. Besides, they were out at sea, surely the rules didn't apply out here.

"Thank you," she said, certain her cheeks were blooming. "I'll pay you back," she assured him. It would have to wait until she got home, but surely she could wire him the money.

"No, it is a gift," he told her.

"But surely."

"Please," he said the word so gently it was almost a whisper. As she looked up into his eyes, the sight of such tenderness took her breath away. Finally she gave him the barest of nods. The shawl sat on her shoulders like sweet caress. Now she was certain this was wrong. But she couldn't tear herself away.

"Are you anxious to return home?"

His question caught her by surprise. "Home? Oh…well, I suppose," she said unconvincingly.

"That doesn't sound very eager."

"Well…there are certain circumstances at home that I'm not looking forward to."

Mr. Gold nodded once. "Financial circumstances."

Belle frowned at him. "How did you know?"

"You're a bit young to be shipped off to Europe, that is more of a desperate measure for ladies on the verge of being put on the shelf. You also mentioned you were sharing a maid with Cora and Regina, which is rather odd." He didn't add the fact that she couldn't afford the shawl, but it was left there unspoken.

"You are observant," she said, "My father inherited a sizable fortune from my grandfather, but he made some rather poor investments," and gambles, but he didn't have to know that, "so now our circumstances are low. He was hoping my trip to Europe would catch him a wealthy son-in-law to solve his problems."

"Rather ungrateful to you," Mr. Gold said, "To force you into an arrangement not of your choosing because of his poor judgment."

"According to my uncle, it is a daughter's duty to obey her father," she said.

"We're in the twentieth century," he replied, "such philosophy belongs in the past. You are a woman, not an object."

Belle smiled up at him. "Thank you for saying that. I wish my father thought the same." She let out a sigh and shook her head. "I wish my suitors did as well."

"I'm certain you'll find one who is compatible with you," he told her, she thought with a slight ring of wistfulness. Perhaps she should have told him it was too late, that she was already claimed, but she didn't. Why should she? They would both depart this voyage probably to never see one another again. And it wasn't like she was engaged. She wasn't formally betrothed yet. Gaston hadn't even asked for her hand. He'd only made his intentions to her uncle before he'd left. A part of her hoped he had changed his mind on the journey.

She saw Mr. Astor had purchased his lace jacket and was now strolling on the promenade with his young wife. Their fingers were laced together and they looked only at each other. Her heart ached at the sight of such sweetness. She couldn't imagine herself in such a moment with Gaston. "Look at them," she tugged on Mr. Gold's arm and pointed, "They make a charming couple."

"Indeed," he agreed with a nod, "I was skeptical when I first heard of the marriage, but they do seem happy together."

"Skeptical? Why?"

"Well, there is a significant age difference," he pointed out.

Belle shook her head. "I thought we agreed age is insignificant?" His brows lifted at her words. "Besides, I think if the love is true, nothing else matters, age and circumstances least of all."

Inwardly, Belle screamed in horror at what she'd just said. She'd practically _told_ him of her interests, trying to make it clear his age and her lack of fortune shouldn't matter. What sort of wanton woman had she become? She was nearly engaged, and she doubted a man so long divorced was looking for a wife. She hadn't been looking for a shipboard fancy. What happened to her plan or locking herself in the library on the voyage? She had barely cracked a book since they set sail.

She flushed crimson and stared down at the wooden planks on the deck so he wouldn't notice. "You are speaking of Regina and the chauffer," he said.

"Yes," she squeaked out, "Yes, that is who I meant." She hoped he believed her. She didn't want to imagine what he would think of her otherwise.

Just then the bugle rang to announce luncheon would be served soon. Belle was so relieved for the sound because it would surely distract him away from her near confession. "I should find Cora and tell her Regina is not well."

"Will you be at the dining saloon or do you have plans for lunch at the restaurant?"

"The saloon," Belle said.

Gold smiled at her. "Excellent. I won't disappoint you this time, Miss French."

He remembered what she'd said earlier. Maybe he had noticed her bold words, maybe he was charmed by them. Belle decided then that she wasn't going to feel ashamed for this. Perhaps this wasn't innocent, but it didn't feel wrong. It felt like something that came along once in a girl's life and she wasn't about to let this pass her by. "Please," she said with a smile, "call me Belle."

"Belle," he said her name softly, "I shall, as long as you call me Robert."

"It's deal." She held out her hand for him to shake it. He gently took her hand, but didn't shake it. Instead, he drew it up so he could kiss her knuckles. Belle let out a gasp at the sensation. Tingles went up her arm and sent her belly fluttering.

"I'll see you in the saloon," he promised. Belle couldn't find any words. All she could do was nod. It wasn't until he left that she realized she'd been holding her breath.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Robert more than made up for his absence at breakfast. In fact, they were in luck for lunch as Cora was invited to dine with the Duff Gordons at the A La Carte, so Belle and Robert shared their table with Molly Brown and Mr. and Mrs. Straus. She confessed that she knew how to play chess, which prompted Robert to challenge her to a game after lunch. Molly followed them and watched them play for a while, mostly egging Belle on. They played two games, each having won once, before they realized the dinner hour was creeping upon them.

Regina reappeared from her room, dressed and ready for dinner. Cora droned on about how she should have just bore it all during lunch, but Belle could see Regina didn't care. She had finally gotten to spend some time with Daniel and that was worth anything. Robert was waiting for Belle at the staircase. She remained by his side all through dinner, mostly talking to each other. She saw Cora give her a venomous look more than once, but she didn't care. Cora had done her duty and found her a wealthy match, what Belle did now was her choice.

She was surprised to see Regina staring at her occasionally as well. Unlike Cora, she didn't appear angry, more like concerned. She wasn't that close to Regina, but she supposed they had become friends. She still didn't understand why Regina would be so worried about her friendship with Robert. She didn't think Regina knew him all that well and it wasn't like they were doing anything wrong. Perhaps tiptoeing on the brink of propriety, but nothing truly scandalous.

The men all retired to the smoking room, some leaving to escort their wives to their cabins. Robert offered to take Belle back to hers, but she declined. She decided she would get back to her reading and wanted to select a novel from the library. Belle returned to her cabin with a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. She changed into a comfortable nightdress and was prepared for a relaxing night.

She was halfway to Netherfield when there was knock on the door that adjoined her room to Regina's. She left the warm patch of her bed to open the door. Regina stood there, still dressed in her bronze evening gown. "Regina, this is unexpected. Do you need something?"

"No, not exactly," she said. She almost sounded nervous.

"Well, come in," Belle swept her into the room with her arm. It was apparent Regina wanted to talk to her about something. Belle sat down on her bed and set her book on the nightstand. Regina perched herself at the foot of the bed. The soft lighting in the room made the diamonds on her necklace sparkle like moonlight on snow.

"Did you enjoy your lunch with Daniel?" Belle asked.

"Oh yes," Regina said eagerly, "He said he was surprised by how luxurious second class quarters are here. He thought for sure they had put him in first class by mistake. It was nice to spend time with him. I was afraid I wouldn't get the chance until I got home."

"Don't worry about that," Belle said, "If you need me to cover for you again, I will."

"I appreciate that."

"Is that why you came?" Belle asked her, "Do you want me to distract Cora tomorrow?"

Regina shook her head. "No, it's not that. I just noticed at dinner how friendly you were with Robert Gold."

Belle shifted in her perch. "I didn't realize that was wrong."

"It's not, it's just…" Regina stopped and let out a sigh. "I don't think you know him very well."

"No," Belle admitted, "But we did talk a lot today. He told me about his divorce and his son. I even told him about my father. We're becoming very close friends."

Regina's brows rose at her words. "I'm surprised he told you all of that. Usually he's as friendly as a porcupine."

"Maybe you misjudged him."

"Belle…I'm afraid it might be you who's misjudged him," Regina said, "There is something I know about him, something I don't think you're going to like."

Belle blinked at her. "Why are you so concerned?"

"Because I don't want to see you get hurt. I haven't seen him in years, but I do remember him from back then and he wasn't exactly a gentleman."

"If you're talking about what they've said in the papers, I find that nonsense. Just because he is a shrewd businessman doesn't mean he's a wicked person."

"This isn't about his business dealings, this is something personal." Regina bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "With him and my mother."

Belle's mouth dropped open. "What?" she gasped.

"Three years after my father died, I noticed Mr. Gold was…friendly with my mother. I was only fourteen so I wasn't completely naïve. I realized they were having an affair, despite their attempt at discretion."

"An…an affair," Belle whispered the words. There was a sharp sting in the center of her chest, like someone had pushed a needle in her heart. "Are you certain?"

Regina nodded. "I caught them kissing once. I told my mother it was wrong, but she said that 'women have to use every advantage they have to get ahead in life'. She didn't care if she was disrespecting my father's memory or behaving like a common trollop, she was after something though. I knew that much."

"Did he…were they…in love?" Belle's voice nearly broke over the last word.

"I don't know about him," Regina said, "but I don't think my mother is capable of loving any man. It lasted for about a year, then he was gone. I don't know why they stopped seeing each other."

A lump formed in the back of Belle's throat. She kept trying to swallow it back and blinked heavily to stop her eyes from filling with moisture. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't want to see you get hurt," Regina said, sounding genuine, "I know you don't care for Gaston and I really can't blame you for taking an interest in someone else, but I'm not sure if Gold is the man you should consort with."

"I'm not trying…" Belle didn't know what to say. She wasn't _trying_ to start anything with Mr. Gold, but then what was she doing? She was certainly flirting with him, enjoying his company, and her heart ached like it had cracked just now. Certainly her feelings weren't as benign as she had tried to convince herself they were. "We're only friends," Belle said. At least that was true for the moment.

"I believe you," Regina said, "And please know I only told you this because I don't want you to get hurt."

"Of course," Belle said.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

Belle shook her head. "No, thank you for telling me this, Regina. I'm glad I know."

Regina nodded her head once. "All right then. Good night, Belle."

"Good night."

Belle remained sitting until the door clicked closed. She sank down to her side, grabbing to pillow so she could hug it to her chest. She didn't cry exactly, but a few tears did slip down her cheeks. She didn't know why this hurt so much. She hardly knew Robert Gold, that was obvious now. It wasn't like she was being courted by him. He hadn't even lied to her. He had done nothing wrong, so why did it feel like he'd betrayed her.

Pemberly held no interest in her for the rest of the night. Instead she fell into a fitful sleep, her mind conjuring images of Cora in Robert's arms, him whispering endearments into Cora's ears, and his eyes looking into Cora's in the same sweet way they had hers.

* * *

_April 20, 1912_

It was still a struggle just to keep his eyes open for more than a hour. Dr. Whale had assured Gold that he was recovering well, but considering he had been unconscious for several days, he wasn't so certain. He had never been a good patient. He rarely took sick days, even when he was ill. He hated being weak, especially when it meant being confined to a bed.

They told him he suffered from severe hypothermia which was not an experience he relished. What was worse was he couldn't remember how it happened. The ship deemed unsinkable had sunk and apparently he had been on it. He remembered booking passage, but that was all.

"You suffered quite a blow to the head," Dr. Whale explained, "Not to mention the intense cold. You're lucky to be alive Mr. Gold. I'm sure your memory will return soon enough."

He didn't like having such holes in his memory. There was something missing, something he had to know but he couldn't reach it. The doctors and nurses couldn't tell him anything. They were especially tightlipped about the whole sinking, like he would have a psychotic break if he learned exactly how he managed to nearly die five days ago.

"You're doing great, Mr. Gold."

"I feel like hell."

"Trust me, you are on the mend," Whale said.

Gold was tempted to call up the medical board to check on the man's certification. Then he heard a commotion in the hall. "I'm looking for Robert Gold's room? Can you tell me where he is?"

"Bae?" he said out loud. He wanted to call out for his son, but his voice was still barely above a whisper.

Dr. Whale heard him and went over to the door. "Excuse me? Are you looking for Robert Gold?"

"Yes, where is he?"

"Just in here."

There was the unmistakable sound of two people running and then Bae burst through the open door. His son looked terrible. His wavy brown hair was wild and in need of a brush. His chin was covered in a full day's stubble. His brown eyes were bloodshot, either from tears or imbibing too much. But his tired face was beaming. "Papa!"

"Bae," Gold managed to whisper. Tears filled his eyes at the sight of his son. He didn't have to remember to know that as he stood on the sinking ship, all he thought of was the wasted years he had lost with his son before and how he could never make that right. His son was all he truly cared about in the world.

Bae rushed to the bed and immediately took his father's hand. That wasn't enough for Gold. He used all of the strength he had to pull his son closer so he could hug him properly. He could have died. He could have died and never hugged his son again.

"Thank God, you're alive," Bae said, squeezing him so tight that it hurt, but Robert didn't care. "I actually thought you were gone."

His son pulled away to smile up at him, his eyes shining with tears. "I should have known better. If anyone can come back from the dead, it's you."

Gold let out a huff of laughter. "I'm afraid I'm not that powerful." He looked over at the doorway where a lovely blonde woman stood. She was taller like Bae, but perhaps a few years younger. "Miss Swan, I presume?"

She nodded and smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gold."

"Likewise, though I wish they were under more dignified circumstances."

"Frankly, I'm just glad to be meeting you at all," she said.

"How come I wasn't told before?" Bae asked Dr. Whale, "His name wasn't on the list of survivors."

"He only woke up this morning," the doctor explained, "We had no way of identifying him."

Gold frowned and shook his head. "None of the other passengers recognized me?"

"I told you, Mr. Gold, you were suffering from hypothermia. You were brought to the _Carpathia's_ infirmary immediately and then straight to this hospital once the ship docked. We had no means of indentifying you until you woke up."

"But surely someone must have seen me," Gold said, "I may not be as interesting to the papers as Astor, but I do carry some recognition."

Bae squeezed his father's hand. "Papa, don't you remember how bad it was?"

"I'm afraid your father is suffering from some memory loss," Dr. Whale said, "He doesn't recall ever being onboard the _Titanic_."

"Is that true?" his son looked at him.

"Yes," he admitted, "I couldn't even remember my name until I saw your picture in my watch."

"How is that possible?" Miss Swan asked.

"Hypothermia can cause some temporary amnesia," Dr. Whale explained, "And Mr. Gold here was very close to death when they brought him on board. It's a miracle he survived. He also suffered a blow to head, probably by debris when the ship went down. From what I've learned, he was barely conscious when they pulled him out of the water. It could have been the cold or the head injury. It could also be simply his mind trying to protect him from the trauma."

"You're saying the sinking was so terrible that I'm blocking out the entire voyage?" Gold asked him with one brow raised.

"I've heard of this," Miss Swan said, "sometimes victims of traumatic events suppress certain memories to protect themselves."

"But to forget nearly an entire week?" Bae pointed out, "That seems strange."

"Like I said, it could be a number of things," Whale said.

Gold didn't really care how he lost his memory, but what he did gather was that he had endured something beyond horrifying. It must have been a nightmare of an unreachable scale. "What happened?" he asked, "How did the ship sink?"

"It hit an iceberg," Bae said, "It sank in less than three hours."

Gold shook his head at that notion. "That can't be possible. It took the _Republic_ over a day to sink and it was no where near as large as the _Titanic_."

"It's true, papa."

Gold stared straight ahead, his mind calculating the whole situation. The _Republic_ had been a large vessel too, but her collision with the _Florida_ had led to a very slow sinking. He remembered reading about the _Titanic_ and her sister ship the _Olympic's_ water tight bulkheads, designed to sustain collision. This iceberg must done enough damage to a point that even the bulkheads were useless. And if she sank in less than three hours…

"How many people survived?" he asked.

"A little over seven hundred," Emma said.

Even Gold knew that number was impossibly low. The _Republic_ had only lost six people, but there had been hours to get people to safety. With precious little time, that must mean the number of those who were lost were much greater than anyone could have imagined.

"How many died?"

Bae gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Reports are saying over fifteen hundred."

"Fifteen hundred!" Bae nodded solemnly. "How is that possible?"

"A senator from Michigan has started an investigation," Emma said, "We don't know much yet, just that there weren't enough lifeboats to carry even half of the passengers onboard."

"Frankly, papa," Bae said, "You're not just lucky to have survived the hypothermia. You're lucky you were saved from the sinking itself. A lot of people died, even people we know."

"Who?"

"John Jacob Astor for one. Benjamin Guggenheim, Isidor Straus and his wife, George Wick, even Major Butt."

Gold knew all of them, either from business acquaintances, social gatherings, or even just from their work. He must have shared cigars and brandy with the men while on board. Now they were all gone. How did they die and not him?

He felt Bae's free hand rub at his shoulder while his other squeezed his fingers. "It's okay, papa. It will be okay."

It wasn't his son's place to tell that lie. He had told Bae that when his mother had left them, and when he was seven and broke his leg. It was the father's job to comfort the son, not the other way around. But still, Gold was grateful for the words even if they weren't true.

"Your father had these items with him when the brought him onboard the _Carpathia._" Dr. Whale retrieved the tray with the only personal possessions of his that had survived the sinking. Emma sat down at the foot of the bed opposite of Bae to take a look at what they were. Bae picked up the silver pocket watch, smiling when he flipped it open to see the picture inside. "I remember when I gave you this."

Gold smiled back. "It's my most valuable possession."

Father and son smiled at each other before Bae pressed the watch back into his father's palm. He looked back into the tray and frowned. "Your ring isn't here."

It was the first time Gold noticed it was missing. "You're right."

"What ring?" Emma asked.

"It was an old ring of his," Bae explained, "A large gold ring with a blue stone. It was another sentimental token of his. It was a gift from James Midas who made willed him the textile factory when he was nineteen."

"The first step of my vast empire," Gold said, "I always carried it with me to remind me of how I began."

"Oh," Emma said gently, "I'm sorry you lost it."

Gold was too, but he shrugged. "It's no matter."

"I'm glad it was just the ring you lost and not your life," Bae said.

"True enough."

Emma was looking back at the little tray, frowning at one item that was far more peculiar. "Why did you have ribbon?" She pulled out the dark blue length of silk. It was a bit wrinkled and frayed at one end from it's journey to America, but not in terrible condition.

"I could have just been a part of his clothes," Bae said.

"No, this is a woman's ribbon," Emma said with certainty.

"Why would he have that?" Bae looked over at him but Gold could only offer him a bewildered look. "Could there have been a mix up? Was there a lady in the hospital with him?"

Whale shook his head. "No, that was found on him. I was told it was tied around his wrist."

Emma looked over at him with the ribbon still in her hand. "You were traveling alone, right?"

Gold nodded. "Just me and my valet." His eyes widened in alarm. "Kent! Did he…?" Bae just shook his head. Gold sank back into his pillows. "Damn. He was a good man."

"I already sent word to his brother," Bae said.

"Send him his salary as well. It's the least we can do." Bae nodded in agreement.

Emma was still running her fingers over the silk ribbon. "I wonder how you got this."

"It hardly matters," Bae said, "We can just throw it out."

Gold's heart seized at the notion. "No!" he nearly shouted, his hand reaching for the ribbon. Emma, Bae and Whale both stared at him in astonishment.

"Mr. Gold, do you remember how you got that item?" Whale recovered first.

He shook his head. "But I think…I can feel it was important to me." He reached for it again and Emma placed it in his hand.

"A ribbon?" Bae questioned.

Gold nodded once. "Regardless, it is the only clue I have to what happened while I was on that ship. I can't get rid of it."

He stared at the line of silk, it's soft contrast against his rough hands. If he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling in his heart, he could almost sense it's mystery. He wanted to know, but a part of him was afraid of what he would find. He didn't know what had happened, just that it had ended in an immeasurable tragedy.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

The dinner plans at the French household were underway despite Belle's wishes to cancel the whole affair. It was a waste of money considering their lack of funds, though she suspected her father was borrowing more money to pay for the whole thing. How much more was added to their debt? Moe French had no concept of how to preserve his fortune. He had been raised in excess and had never been in want of money. Now the tables had turned and still he was trying to live as lavishly as he had in the past.

Belle knew she should be worried about all of this, but she felt like she'd been in a fog ever since she left the _Carpathia_. She spent her nights huddled in her bed crying, and her days going through the motions of normal living. She kept Robert's ring on a chain around her neck, hidden underneath her dress.

Belle sat alone in the garden just staring at the empty dirt. It wasn't quite Spring yet, so there were no flowers. She supposed a barren garden fit her life at the moment. She would have to change for dinner. Gaston had been invited, so had all of her father's friends. He never asked her if she wanted anyone on the guest list. She didn't really care, it was never her party anyways.

She left the stone bench to make her way back to her room. She wanted to wear black, but knew her father would insist she wear something more festive. The red it would be, but she would tie a black ribbon around her neck to show how she really felt.

She had to pass her father's study on her way up to her room. He was on the phone, she could hear his voice rise and fall as he spoke with the person on the other line.

"…didn't know what to think when I heard…oh yes, I was terrified that I had lost her, she's all I have left in the world…She hasn't told me much…Yes, I am interested in Smith's investigation. I hope he finds White Star Line completely responsible…Indeed, I am considering suing the company."

A wave of terror rolled in her stomach. She knocked on the doorframe. "Papa? Who are you talking to?"

"Ah, here she is." Moe put his hand on the receiver. "Belle, please come in. It's a reporter for the _Globe_ who is doing a story on the sinking. He'd like to get a few words from you."

She stood there, staring straight at him in disbelief. He walked across the room and guided her to the chair, putting the receiver in her hand. "Go on," he urged her, "Say something."

Her mouth was completely dry. She tried to wet her lips, but there was no moisture left. "H-hello?" she whispered.

"Hello, Miss French," a cheerful man said on the other end, "I'm Sydney Glass of the _Globe_. I was hoping to get a quote from you about the sinking. Can you tell me what it was like out there in the lifeboat as the ship went down?"

The hand that held the receiver was shaking. Her chest was rising and falling with every breath she took, faster and faster. Her heart pounded in her ears. "No," she said.

"What?"

"NO!" She threw the receiver back onto the phone and shoved it away. The whole evil contraption fell to the floor with a loud bang.

"Belle! What has gotten into you!" her father demanded.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Belle cried, "It was horrible. It was supposed to be the best night of my life and it turned into a nightmare! I lost everything on that ship and I can't pretend like I'm grateful to be here! I wish I was in that ocean!"

Her father gaped at her in horror, but she didn't care. She raced out of that room, bolted up the stairs until she could find the safety of her room. She threw herself down onto her bed, hugging the pillow to her breast. "Robert," she cried into the mass of fabric and feathers, "Robert. Robert. Robert."

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_It was black, a thick, cloying darkness that had no end. He couldn't breath. When he opened his mouth, his throat was coated with ice and salt. Ocean._

_ He kicked his arms and legs, searching and reaching for the surface. There was none. The impossible darkness was pulling him further and further down. He fought, but there was no escaping it. Down, down, down he went. How far was it to the bottom? No one would ever find him._

_ There was a light in front of him, impossibly bright. He had to shut his eyes or else he'd go blind. Though what did sight matter when he was about to drown? He opened his eyes and saw there was something inside of the light. No, not something, someone._

_ It was a woman dressed all in white, with long, curly brown hair. She floated there inside the bright, calm waters. Her hair wafted around her like a halo. She looked at him with cerulean blue eyes, almost glowing in the darkness. She smiled at him with rosy lips. One hand reached out for him._

_ He struggled to kick free of the darkness. He had to get to her. He had to be with her. He kicked and flailed, his hands groping out for hers, but she was too far. And the darkness kept pulling and pulling and pulling. "No!" he shouted, inhaling another lungful of ice water. "No!"_

"No!"

Robert bolted up from his bed, his hands reaching up towards the ceiling.

"Papa?"

He blinked and realized there was no dark ocean surrounding him, no beautiful angel trying to save him. He was in the hospital, alive. Bae had been asleep in the chair next to his bed. Now he sat down next to his father. "Papa, are you all right?"

Cold sweat ran down his face. He looked down and saw his hands were shaking. Off to the side of his bed was the blue silk ribbon. He quickly grabbed it, threading it through his fingers. "I'm fine, son," he said between pants, "Just a dream."

She was only a dream.

* * *

Historical Note: I have no idea what hospital the survivors of the Titanic were sent to when the docked in New York, so I made it up. I did do some research on hypothermia and amnesia is possible, but I figured not to this extreme. That's why Gold suffers from mixture of three possibilities for his amnesia. I'll let you all decide if it was the cold, the head injury, or just his fear of remembering that has made him forget the entire voyage.

There really was a market set up on the promenade deck when the ship docked in Queenstown, Ireland. John Jacob Astor reportedly bough a lace jacket for $800. Must be nice to be the richest man on the ship.

Some of you might know about the Titanic's fourth funnel. It really was a fake...sorta. It didn't pump out smoke from the boilers, but was used almost exclusively for aesthetics so the ship looked nicer. However, it did vent steam from the engine room so it wasn't completely useless. I nearly threw my shoe at the tv screen when I saw James Cameron had black smoke coming out the funnel, LOL. Also, a cheeky fireman/stoker really did climb up inside the fourth funnel and poked his head out to give the people below him a good scare. I thought it was too funny to not include in this story.

Once word got out about the sinking, Senator William Alden Smith of Michigan immediately began an investigation into the disaster. Literally, he got the senate to agree to an investigation the day BEFORE the Carpathia docked. He had led reform of railroad safety, so actually he had some experience in this sort of thing. His investigation concluded that no sole person was responsible for the sinking, but rather a lack of regulation for maritime law (not enough lifeboats, no 24 hour wireless operations, etc) made the whole thing unfortunately a disaster waiting to happen. You can read transcripts of the whole lengthy investigation and interviews online.

A/N: So, Gold is alive but doesn't remember anything about the voyage. Poor Belle is still in mourning and her father is eager to cash in on her misery. And Regina shared a bit of history between Cora and Gold to Belle. Please, tell me what you think of this chapter.

Next chapter: Gold returns from the hospital and the press delights in his story, he also receives some unwanted visitors. Back on the Titanic, Gold talks to Belle about his history with Cora, they have a bit of an adventure as Belle decides to find out the mysteries of the men's Smoking Room, and their relationship takes a leap forward out of the friend territory and into the romantic zone.


	3. La Vie En Rose

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, the Titanic or the song La Vie en Rose. Believe me, I would be much richer if I did.

A/N: Did you miss me yet? I can't seem to put this story down. I guess that's what happens when my love of Rumbelle and history combine. If I did a Rumbelle/Tudors crossover I bet I would finish it in a week. I hope you enjoy this chapter. The plot will thicken a bit more. Soon I will skip farther a head in the present, for now we are about two weeks after the sinking.

**Anonymous Reviews:**

**Rebekah Kroeplin:** I'm so glad you like it so far and that you find it so interesting. As to Bae's behavior, I chose not to make it so awkward for two reasons: one, it has been a couple of years so they had kind of moved past that awkward "should I forgive him phase" and two, he did just think his father was dead so I figured he wouldn't care about their troubles in the past. Besides, Gold hasn't done anything so dastardly in this story as he did in the show and a lot of Bae's anger in this story burned out as he grew up and realized his father was all he had left and did love him a lot.

**Claire:** Fangirl all you like. I'm delighted you love this story so much.

**anon:** I'm glad you like the historical notes. I like to point out what is real and what liberties I've taken. I hope you like this chapter just as much as the last.

**prttykitty7728:** Ah, my old friend, thanks for reading and I'm so glad you liked the last chapter.

* * *

Chapter 3: La Vie En Rose

_April 30, 1912_

_**Titanic Survivor Hailed A Hero**_

_ Last week, the unknown survivor of the tragic disaster at sea turned out to be none other than Mr. Robert Gold. Mr. Gold was traveling alone onboard the lost ship when the Titanic struck an iceberg an sank. He was assumed lost along with the other 1,500 souls who perished that cold night. It wasn't until he awoke from a coma that the truth of his survival was revealed._

_ Now everyone is talking about the courageous acts of Mr. Gold before he was thrown into the icy Atlantic. He assisted in putting women and children into the lifeboats, even offered his hand in lowering the boats into the water. Mr. Gold was an accomplished sailor in youth so his expertise was needed…_

Robert Gold rolled his eyes and tossed the paper away without bothering to finish the puff piece. It had been like this ever since the word got out of his survival. Bae had told him the phone was ringing morning, noon, and night at home. It got to the point that he simply had left the phone off the hook so they could get some piece.

Gold was ready to go home. He had hoped to leave much sooner, but a bought of pneumonia had forced him to remain in the hospital. Whale proved to be accomplished in his specialty in that regard. He was once again on the mend, weaker, but in no danger of death.

"Please tell me you have something edible on that tray," Gold said when the pretty blonde nurse by the name of Sarah walked in.

She was made of strong stuff, so she ignored his grouchy comment and smiled. "Be nice, Mr. Gold, or I won't let you keep your pudding."

Since the pudding was the only thing halfway decent, he kept his mouth shut. "This will be my last meal here," he vowed for the tenth time that week.

"You may be right this time," Sarah told him as she set the tray in his lap, "Dr. Whale is confident you can be released in the morning."

"Thank God."

"You may not be so grateful when you see the press out there." She nodded her head towards the window. "I had to fight off reporters on my way in here."

"I don't see why they are so eager for a quote," he said, "They're making do with their own imaginations."

Sarah looked down at the crumpled newspaper abandoned on the side of the bed. "Did you really use your maritime expertise to help during the sinking?"

"I may not remember what happened, but I can assure you I have _no_ maritime expertise," Gold said while glowering at his overcooked chicken and undercooked rice. "My brief stint as a sailor was when I was twelve. I served as a cabin boy for a merchant vessel to pay my way to America."

Sarah chuckled a little. "Well, I suppose that counts as being a sailor in your youth."

"I suppose next week they'll claim I swam beneath the ship in a vain attempt to patch up the hull."

"Perhaps," she agreed.

There was a gentle knock on the door and then the cheerful voice of his son announced, "Tired of him, Sarah?"

"Yes, sir," she responded all too quickly, "He's my worst patient."

"You're fired," Gold announced.

"I'll be sure to tell my boss you said that," she replied.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, papa," Bae said as he took up his usual chair, "Grouchiness becomes you."

"I'll fire you too."

"Then who's going to take care of you when you get home tomorrow?"

"Emma, I actually like her."

"You won't when she's your nurse," Bae warned him, "She's not exactly the patient type."

"That's something we have in common."

Bae took the forgotten newspaper, but didn't inspect the article about his father. Instead he turned to another page that was dedicated to the recent disaster at sea. "Smith's investigation is still underway. What do you think he'll find?"

"Hell if I know, but I imagine it won't be as simple as some people want it to be," Robert said as he picked at his food. The chicken was bland. The only reason he ate it was because he was hungry, that and Sarah would berate him if he didn't.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone wants to point the finger at someone, Ismay most of all because he owned the ship and he survived the sinking, but something like this isn't usually the fault of one person. No one could have predicted that an iceberg would sink an unsinkable ship."

Bae studied the paper and nodded. "I suppose that is true." He folded it up again and set it down on the nightstand. "By the way, I've been looking for a therapist."

"Since when do you need therapy? I know your mother was a nightmare, but you seem to have adjusted well enough."

"Not for me, for you."

Gold finished with his chicken and rice and went to the pudding. "You do need therapy if you think I'll agree to that."

"Papa, don't be like that," Bae said. It was the blatant concern in his son's voice that kept him silent. "I know you hate that sort of thing, but I think you need it. You went through a traumatic event that almost killed you."

"Luckily I don't remember a thing, so it can't effect me."

"You have nightmares every night," he reminded him.

"They'll pass."

"Papa," Bae said his name softly, just like he had when he was child. It reminded him of when he was a toddler and frightened of the lightening outside, or when he thought the heater was a monster with red eyes. Bae was afraid. Not of any mythical or physical source, but afraid for father's mind.

Gold sighed and settled back into his pillows. "So who is it you want me to see?"

Bae's smile was worth the headache this was going to be. "He's Archibald Hopper, reputedly the best therapist in the city. He studied under the great psychologists. He's worked wonders."

"Hmph," he mumbled. His fingers wandered to the blue ribbon he had tied around his wrist. "We'll see about that."

* * *

_April 12, 1912_

Normally Gold preferred breakfast in his own cabin. He had a habit of waking early so he could get some work done. Even on the voyage, he had papers and telegrams to go over, business contracts to tweak, and numerous other small matters that always piled up when one had an empire to rule.

But this morning, Gold told Kent to forgo the call for a tray to be brought up. He finished up his morning work and dressed so he could attend breakfast in the dining room. Belle had been disappointed that he hadn't been down yesterday, well he wouldn't do that again. Besides, he was eager to see her.

A tiny part of his mind nagged him for this. He was acting like Bae had when he was nine and had a crush on the gardener's daughter. He remembered his son getting up at the crack of dawn, trying to assist her and her father with the rosebushes. He wasn't a child, but a grown man, and yet he suspected he'd be out in the dirt like his son if Belle were the gardener's daughter.

Yet he didn't give into that nibbling part of him. He just kept going, not caring if he was acting like a schoolboy. A beautiful young woman was interested in spending time with him, dare he say, even fond of him. He couldn't help but act the way he did.

There was no formal entry for breakfast. Everyone just wandered in and found a table. There were no assigned tables for breakfast or lunch, unlike in the evenings. There was the risk that he would have to join an already full table, leaving him with out Belle in the morning. But he was in luck. He was waved over to Astor's table where Cora, her daughter, and Belle were also finding their seats. He smiled at her when their eyes met. She smiled back, but not with as much warmth as he was used to from her.

He was unable to sit next to her, but managed to snag the chair just across from her. He had thought they could share a little conversation, but she hardly spoke with him. She didn't snub him, far from it, but was very polite and formal. It was like he was Mr. Straus and not the friend he had become. She remained quiet throughout breakfast. He wondered if Cora had said something to her to chasten her into such solemn decorum. But Cora showed litter interest in Belle, spending far more time criticizing her daughter.

This was unlike Belle. The night before she had been lively and sweet with him. Now she was distant. Something had happened. Perhaps she was afraid of where their relationship was headed. They had established that they were friends. He didn't confess his growing attraction for her, but maybe she noticed. Perhaps she was only humoring an old man's friendship, but didn't want to give him the false hope that she would actually be interested in him.

His pride demanded he wash his hands of her if that was the case, but his heart urged him to ask the lady herself what was wrong. There had been no malice in her gaze at the breakfast table, no fear, it was more like she was unsure of herself, or maybe of him.

He excused himself a bit earlier than the others, only so he could wait just outside the saloon for her to leave. There had been no indication that she was enjoying herself so it was doubtful she would linger over the coffee.

He was right, a few minutes after he departed Belle also left the saloon. He reached out and gently took a hold of her elbow. He felt the way she tensed at the intrusion, but relaxed slightly when she saw it was him. "Oh, Mr. Gold. I thought you had left."

"I wanted to talk with you," he said, "You seem perturbed with me."

"I assure you, I'm not."

"And yet you are uncharacteristically silent." She opened her mouth, but then let it close. Obviously she had no means to deny his assertion. "I don't know why you've changed your feelings towards me, but if you would rather not see me anymore then please tell me now."

"It's not that," she said, "I do like you, Robert, it's just…"

"Just what?" This was the moment when she would tell him, _You're too old for me_ or _I don't have feelings for you_. He was prepared for that eventuality, but still it stung a bit. Though, that was the price one paid for dreaming and impossible dream.

"Regina spoke to me last night," she began slowly, "She told me about a relationship you once had…with Cora."

Well, he certainly hadn't expected that. Inwardly he cursed. He should have realized this would come out. He hadn't thought about Regina telling Belle, Cora perhaps, but not Regina. A part of him was angry at the girl for doing this, but he supposed this was his own fault. He couldn't hide this from Belle, not when she was traveling with Cora.

"Ah," he found the voice to say. The saloon was getting ready to empty of it's breakfast crowd, he realized. This was not a conversation that could be done with onlookers. "Let's find some place a little more private."

Of course privacy on a ship was hard to find. He couldn't go to her cabin where Cora or Regina could enter at will. He could take her to his suite, but in broad daylight anyone could catch them and her reputation would be ruined. D deck did not provide him with many choices, so he brought her to elevators which they took to A deck. The promenade was still too public, so he took a chance and brought her to the reading and writing room.

The room was meant to be a place for the first class ladies to socialize in. There were comfortable chairs and sofas in upholstered in cheery yellows and pinks. There were a few books on the shelves and tables for the ladies to sit and write letters or simply talk. He wasn't sure how popular this room was with the women on the ship, but right now it was empty.

"What did Regina tell you exactly?" he asked once he shut the door.

"That you had a relationship with Cora about ten years ago," Belle said, "She didn't tell me any particulars, just that she was ashamed of her mother's behavior and that it was kept relatively secret."

"I see," he stated. Regina was still mostly in the dark about the whole ordeal. That was a relief, but now he had some options. He could go with the little Regina knew and work from there, try and salvage this as best he could. Or he could tell her the truth and see if she'd ever want to associate with him again. He doubted it.

"Is Regina wrong?" she asked, "Could she have been mistaken?" There was an eagerness to her tone, a shining bit of hope in her eyes. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. This is none of my business."

She stood there, wringing her hands and staring at the paneled wall behind him. She wanted to know, but she was afraid, he could see it on her face. He couldn't lie to her, even though he hated delving into his past like this.

"No, its all right." He put one hand on her shoulder to keep her from bolting. "It's not something I like to share, but…I want to tell you everything. You won't like it, you may not even like me when I'm through."

"I don't think that's true," she said. Her hope was unfailing. He'd never met anyone quite like her.

"We'll see," he said. He'd never been the optimistic sort. This was a room designed for ladies so there was no liquor for him to take courage in. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I married Milah when I was very young," he began, "I thought we were in love and that we would be happy, but soon after Bae was born she became discontented. I was busy with my business, perhaps I should have paid more attention to her. When Bae was four, she began an affair with a sailor named Killian Jones. I became aware of this when I caught her with him in our bedroom."

Belle gasped at that, covering one mouth with her hand. He had forgotten her innocence here. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I should have been more discreet."

"No," she said, "It's fine. Please, continue."

"I was angry with Milah and quickly filed for divorce. I was glad to be rid of her, but endured a great deal of ridicule for her unfaithfulness. I first met Cora soon after my divorce was final."

Her eyes flickered with surprise, but she didn't say anything.

"I was angry and hurt at the time. I felt like the only person who cared about me was my son. Cora was attractive and I craved the idea of someone actually caring about me. Cora told me she was separated from our husband, but since she was still legally married, we kept our relationship a secret. It lasted for a few months, but then she told me she was returning to her husband for her daughter. I respected her decision and held no grudge against her, but naturally I kept my distance."

"Regina never told me about that," Belle said.

"I doubt she knows, she was a young girl at the time and it wasn't a serious affair," he told her truthfully. "When my son was fourteen, Milah became ill with consumption. Jones begged me to send for a doctor, but I reminded him that I no longer had to do anything for her. I was still angry at her for abandoning our son the way she did, but Bae still loved his mother. For his sake, I did send for a doctor, but by then it was too late. She died shortly after. Jones blamed me for it and Bae…he felt like I had wanted her to die. He chose to go to boarding school after that and rarely came home."

"Oh dear," Belle said. Her blue eyes were full of sadness for him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," he assured her, "It took a long time, but my son has forgiven me for my anger. We are in a much better place now, but for a long time I was lonely and angry at myself. That was when Cora came into the picture again. Her husband had died three years before and I was eager to feel loved again. I began to believe that I could have a real relationship with a woman, one based on love and trust. I was seriously considering marrying Cora, but then Xavier Mills died."

"My uncle?" Belle asked.

"Yes," Gold said, "You see, Cora and Xavier were actually similar creatures. Both ambitious and ruthless in their desire to succeed. When Henry died, Xavier decided to make Cora his heir to his company because Regina was still too young. Until then, Cora was left with a widow's pension which wasn't nearly as much as she had before. She must have heard about my personal troubles and decided I would be eager for her attentions again. She was right."

"Are you saying Cora was using you?" Belle asked.

"Oh yes," he said, "She wanted my money. My fortune is still greater than hers, the only problem was she would have to share it with me if we had married. That seemed better than living off of her pension. But then Xavier died in a riding accident, leaving Cora everything. She may not have as much money as she would with me, but now she had the independence to do what she willed. She was queen of her own little kingdom and she didn't have to share the title with anyone. She was quite frank in her confession, she even admitted that she had never been separated from her husband all those years ago. She was simply bored and I was an excellent diversion."

Belle had one hand over her pretty lips again. "Oh my," she said softly, "How could she do something like that?"

"She's a selfish creature and an accomplished actress," he said, "I have hardly seen her in ten years, and the only at social occasions where I avoid her as much as I can. It was a mistake I wish I could take back, but it finally proved to me that I am an easy man to hate, but a difficult man to love."

Belle removed her hand from her mouth and took a step forward. She placed her palm against his cheek, turning his head to he had to meet her eyes. "Don't say that. I don't think you're a difficult man to love."

He couldn't find any lie in her eyes, but how could he believe such a thing? Milah had never loved him, nor Cora. His own father had abandoned him when he was a child. The only person who had ever loved him was boy, but he had even pushed him away for a time as well. He gently pulled her hand away. "That's very kind of you, sweetheart." The endearment rolled off of his tongue before he could stop it.

"Thank you for telling me," Belle said, "and I don't hate you. I'm glad you told me, I'm glad you are a man with flaws and who's made mistakes. I like you even more for it."

He stared at her, his mouth gaping open. "Why?"

"You have so many layers," she said, "You're not a superficial fool like my other suitors."

"I should hope not," he said. His heart glowed inside of his chest. Suitor. She had just called him her suitor. He supposed there was no point in denying it now, he was courting her.

Belle took his hand again and pulled him out of the reading and writing room. "Will you tell me how you got to America?" she asked, "or maybe how you made your fortune?"

He loved how she could read him so well. She was moving away from topics that could wound him and back to a subject that could build up his confidence. He had always kept himself guarded by walls and gates firmly locked, but she somehow opened them all without even trying. And he couldn't seem to mind.

He smiled at her as they made there way to the promenade. "Certainly, though it will cost you?"

"What is the price?"

"Lunch with my at the A La Carte."

Belle put on a thoughtful expression, tapping her chin with her finger. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Gold, but I accept."

He chuckled at her and began to tell her about his spinster aunts who raised him and his first trip across the Atlantic when he was twelve. She never once let go of his hand.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

They talked all along the promenade deck, not caring who saw them together. He told her all about his life, how he worked his way into his fortune. She told him about her childhood with Aunt Lydia and her distant relationship with her father. When lunchtime came around, he escorted her to B deck aft where the A La Carte restaurant was situated.

The first class dining saloon was lovely, set in a Louis the XIV design beautifully upholstered chairs, the finest china Belle had ever seen, and sparkling silver cutlery. There was walnut paneling on the walls and ornate windows to give the passengers an paralleled view of the sea. It should be scandalous that she was having lunch alone with a bachelor, but no one had pointed out her need for a chaperone on their walks alone. Social rules were blurred a bit when out at sea.

Still, if Cora saw her alone with Robert she would lock Belle up for the rest of the voyage. She said as much to him as they took their seats.

"Oh I don't doubt it," he said, "She's an ambitious sort, and I don't think she appreciated being blackmailed."

"What?" Belle questioned.

"Ah, I should have realized you didn't know," he said with an amused smile, "Though I'm certain you deduced Cora didn't bring you along to Europe for her generosity."

"Oh yes, that was abundantly clear," Belle said, "I actually assumed Uncle Theo may have paid her."

"I suspect it was something much more devious than that." He gave her a sly smile. A waiter came by and Robert ordered them a bottle of wine before they perused the menu. They both ordered the filet mignon

"What is so devious?" Belle asked once the waiter was gone.

"Well, like I said before, Cora is very ambitious. It's a trait we both share. I suspect it comes from our similar origins."

"What do you mean? She's not from Scotland."

"No, I don't mean from my homeland, I'm talking about class," he said, "You have far bluer blood than she."

Belle gasped. "You mean she wasn't from a wealthy family?"

"Poorer than dirt," Robert told her, "You see, Cora was actually born and raised in Kansas. Her father owned a flour mill, a rather unproductive one. Young Henry Mills was on a mission from his father to acquire some land in Kansas for a factory. Cora saw he represented a way out of her meager life."

He paused here, she thought because the waiter showed up with their wine. But after the man left, he still didn't finish. "What did she do?" Belle asked.

"This is a rather inappropriate topic for a lady like yourself," he said.

"Please," she waved that notion away, "I've read Chaucer, you can hardly shock me."

He raised one brow over his wineglass, but smile. "All right then. Cora seduced Henry and made sure he got her with child. Henry, being the noble sort, did the honorable thing and married her."

She had read Chaucer, but she was still stunned. To think that Regina had come close to illegitimacy, not to mention Cora being a scheming seductress. "My goodness," she whispered.

He nodded and grinned. "Xavier was furious, but wound up getting along pretty well with his unlikely daughter-in-law. They were of similar dispositions. I often wonder if she may have made a conquest of him as well." Belle nearly choked on his wine at his words. "Forgive me," he said, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's quite all right," she assured him, "I'm glad I know. I like to know who I am dealing with, even if I don't plan on spending anymore time with her than I have to."

"Avoid her as much as you can, she's poison," he told her.

Belle nodded once. She didn't wish to talk about Cora anymore. She was glad he'd told her about his relationship with her and about her past, but she didn't want to imagine him with her. She'd spent the whole night seeing it in her mind, that had been painful enough. She was grateful when he changed the topic, asking if she'd read the new Conrad book. They spent a large amount of time comparing it to Dostoevsky's work, discussing the pros and cons of literature. She could never have a conversation like this with her father or Gaston. Neither man cared for books. Father preferred betting on the horses while Gaston wanted to shoot anything on four legs.

Here, alone in this restaurant, she could pretend this wasn't just passing lark on a ship. They could actually be courting, spending the evening together in New York. He could hold her hand and kiss her goodnight before he returned her home. Or maybe…maybe she would go home with him. Maybe they wouldn't be courting, but actually man and wife.

Belle quickly took a healthy swallow of her wine. She couldn't think that like that. She was an engaged woman, or nearly so. It was wrong. But how could she stop? Gaston was nothing like Robert. He never showed any interest in her thoughts or opinions. This was the sort of relationship she had always wanted. Why did it have to come so late?

She looked around the restaurant for a distraction and saw Mr. Guggenheim at a table for two with a lovely young woman. She was blonde, well dressed, and had a painted face. Belle had seen her before at the table, but didn't realize Guggenheim knew her. She stared at them for a while, trying to piece together the picture they made.

"Something capture your interest?" Robert asked.

"Yes, I didn't think Mrs. Guggenheim accompanied her husband on this trip.

Robert smiled that wry grin at her again. "She didn't."

"Then who…" Belle blushed as the answer came to her. "Oh."

"Her name is Léontine Aubart," Robert said, "She's a singer from France, though I don't know how much singing she actually does."

"Did they meet on board?"

"Oh no, she was already traveling with him. I believe he met her in France."

"Did he tell you all of this?" Belle asked.

"Oh no," Robert said with a shake of his head, "He only said she was traveling with him. I was talking this over with Straus and Wick the other night when Guggenheim got on at Cherbourg."

"Oh, so that is what you talk about in the smoking room," Belle said.

"Among other things."

"Politics?"

"Of course."

"Business," she stated.

"That is a given."

"Literature?"

"If the men are interested," Robert said, "Some prefer discussing the races or what's on the stage."

"That sounds far more interesting than what we ladies discuss in the saloon," Belle said, "It's always the latest fashions from Paris, the upcoming Season, and the same gossip about the same people."

"Hardly stimulating for a woman your intellect," he agreed.

"I've always wondered what went on in the smoking room."

"Cigars, brandy, pretentious conversation."

Belle chuckled at that. "Well, it's better than false cheer and snobbish remarks."

"Cloaks and daggers in the saloon?"

"Concealed beneath silk ribbons and lace."

He laughed at that. "I wish you could join us at night. You'd hold your own against the other men."

"That's high praise from the master of wit," Belle said. He was clever, she had seen that the moment they met.

The waiter brought their check. She blushed as he paid, but he knew she didn't have the funds to pay for her own plate. He didn't say a word. She assumed they would return to the promenade when they ventured back to A deck, but he steered her inside.

"Come with me."

She frowned, but didn't hesitate as he took her hand and pulled her away from the lounge and towards the bow of the ship. She wasn't entirely sure what he wanted, until he opened a door and ushered her in. It was a masculine room set in a Georgian design. Dark wood paneling with stain glass windows gave everything an aura of grandeur. There were comfortable chairs and plenty of round tables for sitting. There was bar stocked with all sorts of liquor and several tray of perfectly rolled cigars.

"It's the smoking room," she gasped out.

"Indeed."

"I can't be in here!"

"I won't tell," he promised her.

"Isn't this a breech of your code?" she questioned, though the excitement of being a woman in this forbidden lair was making her heart race.

"Oh yes, if they discover what I have done I will be executed on the spot."

"Oh my, well I wouldn't want that," Belle said, "I suppose I could borrow your clothes and pretend I'm a man."

"Then shall I borrow your gown and sneak into the reading and writing room?"

"You already went in there today," she reminded him.

"Yes, you're right. Then I suppose it's only fair I bring you here since I already disturbed your secret lair."

Belle couldn't help but laugh again. The idea of being in this room where no woman was allowed to enter was giving her a rush that nearly sent her head spinning. This was the boldest thing she'd ever done.

"So what do you men normally do in here?"

Robert selected a bottle of brandy and poured two glasses. "We'll start with this."

Belle accepted the sifter and watched how he swirled it around in his glass. She took a tiny sip of the liquor. It wasn't bad, a bit sweet with a smoky quality to it. It left a warm feeling in her stomach. A larger swallow tasted stronger. It wouldn't be her first choice of drink, but she thought if she tried it more she could get used to it.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's tolerable," she said, "Stronger than I'm used to."

"I only gave you a small amount," he told her, "I've seen men down six glasses of this stuff."

"Good lord, they must have been foxed."

"Quite." Robert went over to the trays of cigars and picked up two. He snipped off their heads with a little knife. There were several lighters available she assumed for the servers to take and carry with them. She watched as he flicked the flint and a little flame sputtered into life. He lit one of the cigars and handed it to her. "Are you brave enough to try this?"

Belle raised one brow at him and squared her shoulders. "I'd hardly call that fearsome." She took the little tube full of tobacco and stared it for a moment. She'd seen her father smoke them on occasion, but she wasn't entirely sure how to do it. Well, what harm could it be?

She put the unlit end in her mouth and inhaled. Fire! Hot, smoke rolled into her lungs and she couldn't breath. Belle sputtered and coughed, trying to gasp in air but unable to get enough. She felt someone pounding a bit on her back, that helped to force the vile smoke from her lungs. Her eyes watered so bad that tears rolled down her cheeks. Her throat was raw and every swallow scratched it. Finally, she was able to take even breaths again.

It took her a moment to hear Robert over her ragged breaths, but she realized he was laughing. He must have been assisting her before, but now he stood there with his cigar in his hand, snickering over her pain. She glared at him. "You could have warned me?"

"I would have, my dear, but you were far too eager," he teased.

"Why would you smoke something so disgusting?"

"It's an acquired taste."

"Well, you'd do well to un-acquire it."

He laughed at her again, but continued to puff at his cigar. "You don't inhale cigars, dear, you let the smoke sit in your mouth and expel it."

Belle took another careful puff, but made a face when she blew it out. He laughed again at her expression. "You men have terrible taste in pastimes."

He chuckled again. "It's supposed to be a dignified activity."

"Perhaps you should try needlepoint," Belle said with a grin, "You might find it more appealing than cigars."

"I doubt it."

She laughed at the image of him with a sampler in his hands. It was a delicate art, one she wasn't sure he had the patience for. But he was raised by spinsters. Perhaps he would be right at home with needlework.

The door to the smoking room opened, making Belle gasp. Robert was standing in front of her, but she could see it was a steward that had stepped in carrying a tray of crystal sifters. "Oh, my apologies, sir, I didn't believe anyone would be…" he stopped when he saw Robert wasn't alone. "There's a woman in here."

Belle shut her eyes and blushed. Robert didn't have the same reaction. "My God, you're right, she _is_ a woman," he announced, "How astute of you, good man. Don't you worry, I'll take care of this problem right away."

She didn't have time to react. Robert took her hand and pulled her out of the room, leaving the steward staring at them with his mouth gaping open. They managed to make it to the promenade before they both broke down into gusts of laughter. Robert had one hand keeping him steady against the wall, but Belle had her back pressed against the rail of the deck to keep her from collapsing.

"Oh," she gasped out for breath, "Oh my, that was wicked!"

"That poor man," Robert said, still chuckling, "I think he's still standing there trying to figure out what happened."

"To think! A woman, in the smoking room! The world will collapse as we know it!"

"Indeed, society will never be the same," Robert said, "Next they'll suggest men should nurse babies."

"And women should drive automobiles."

"Oh yes, the scandal of the nation." They were in far too silly of a mood to do much else than laugh over the whole incident. She was quite certain the steward had never been more scandalized in his life. Oh, but what fun that was! She may not care for brandy, and cigars were positively vile, but to be daring to step into a man's shoes. It was the sort of thing Shakespeare would write of.

All too soon, the bugle sounded for dinner. "I better go change," Belle said.

"Shall I escort you?"

"No," Belle said, "I'll be all right," she assured him. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for lunch and the cigar. I've never had so much fun in my life."

His brown eyes sparkled with something soft and sweet. "You're very welcome, Belle. I'll see you at dinner." It was a promise.

She reluctantly let go of his hand, her palm still tingling from his warmth. This was the sort of life she wanted. Fun and adventure with a man who encouraged her to try new things, to explore the world in the way she wanted. She knew she would never have that with Gaston. Belle made her way slowly down the staircase, her hand trailing on the rail. '_I'll never love him'_, she realized. She would never be happy with Gaston. But it was too late to go back now. Or was it?

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

"Sir, you seem anxious this evening. Is something wrong?"

"What?" Gold asked Kent, then quickly shook his head, "No, nothing." But he was anxious, anxious to get down to D deck for dinner. He drummed his fingers on his chair while Kent shaved him, nearly forgot to put his cufflinks on as he dressed. He wanted to see Belle again. He was beginning to hate the sound of the dinner bugle because it meant they would have to depart for a brief period of time.

"You have been rather busy on this voyage," Kent remarked.

"Have I? I thought I was slipping when it came to work."

"No sir, I mean you have rarely returned to your cabin other than to retire for the night. On the way to England, you rarely left your room."

He frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Perhaps he had done that. He wasn't a very sociable creature. He had friends, but they were all business acquaintances as well. He rarely took an evening out just to have a change, never traveled unless it was for business, and went to parties only to have impromptu meetings with partners. Yet this voyage had him departing from his usual behavior, all because of one woman.

"I suppose I'm branching out," he said. He could confide in Kent and tell him everything about Belle, but he wasn't entirely sure what they were doing yet. Was this a shipboard fancy? Full courtship? An intimate friendship? He was certain his feelings were beyond the latter, but he couldn't speak for the lady.

He finished dressing and excused Kent. He went down to the dining saloon and waited with the others who arrived early. Belle came down with Cora and Regina, looking ravishing as always in a peach satin gown. He smiled at her as she came down the stairs. He was hoping to catch her, but Cora steered her away towards Lady Duff Gordon. Belle gave him an apologetic look, but he had no choice but to engage in conversation with Colonel Gracie and Major Butt over the current state of politics.

When it came time to go to dinner he was certain he'd be able to sit by her. It was the third night onboard so most of the time everyone took their same seat. He saw Belle had the same plan, but then Cora grabbed her hand. "Come sit by me tonight, dear," Cora urged her, "I feel like I've hardly seen you at all this trip. Regina can entertain Mr. Gold."

Gold saw red. He was going to strangle that woman. Better yet, throw her overboard into the icy sea. Of course her heart was so frigid she likely wouldn't feel the cold. He was seething the point of rudely turning around and returning to his stateroom, but then someone came to their rescue he did not expect.

Regina stepped in between Belle and her mother. "Mother, I think Lady Duff Gordon wanted to tell you more about her new line coming out."

Gold doubted Cora cared anything for Lady Duff Gordon's new style of lingerie, but he gave Regina a grateful smile. He may have misjudged the girl. She did flash him a look that clearly said, "you're welcome" or perhaps "you owe me". He didn't really care which. So as Regina push Cora towards Lady Duff Gordon he quickly swooped into claim his place beside Belle.

Mrs. Brown also joined them, asking him to a game of cards later, but he declined. Belle seemed fond of the woman, and he couldn't say he didn't share her sentiment. She may be a loud, somewhat audacious, but kind and very refreshing from the stale air that surrounded the more polished members of society.

Dinner carried on as it usually did. It was the same chatter, the same disputes, the same peevish looks from Cora. He couldn't help but raise his glass to her in a mocking salute before whispering a compliment to Belle in her ear.

The after dinner repast was served, and Lord Duff Gordon invited the gentlemen of the table to join him for brandy in the smoking room. Gold noticed Belle biting her lip, but that did no good. She buried her face into her napkin, her shoulder's heaving as she stifled her laughter. He bit his own tongue to hold back his own laugh.

"Will you join us, Gold?" Straus asked.

"Thank you, but no," he said, "I had enough brandy and tobacco today." He looked towards Belle. "Don't you agree, Miss French?"

His timing was excellent. She was taking a sip of her wine nearly choked on it. She managed to hide her laugh with a cough, prompting the other gentlemen of the table to ask if she was well. He was grinning to himself all the while. He did see Mrs. Brown eyeing him with interest. She may be bold, but she wasn't stupid, he could see that much.

"Shall I escort you to your cabin, Miss French?" he asked Belle.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Gold."

He helped her out of her chair, but knew he couldn't take her hand the way he wanted to, not with everyone watching. The minute they were out of the saloon, Belle grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the elevators. "I don't want to retire yet, please walk with me."

"Of course," he said. He was beginning to believe he wouldn't deny her anything. She had them go up to B deck. For a moment he wondered if she wanted him to take her back to his cabin. He must refuse her, though his heart hammered in his breast at the idea of taking her to his room. He couldn't. He had to be a gentleman for her.

She didn't ask where his room was. Instead she brought him out to door, down some stairs and then up some more again. It took him a moment to realize he was on a different promenade, the third class area of the ship. "What are we doing here?" he asked her.

"Shh," she held up one finger to her lips. They stayed at then entrance to the promenade, hidden by shadows. He stood there in the silence, frowning at her with curiosity. Then he heard it, the cheerful strains of the violin and bagpipes. Apparently the third class passengers had more than one musician aboard.

Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see more than one couple dancing gaily to the music. They were all young, close to Belle's age. They'd have to be young to be out on a cool night like this. But they were laughing and clearly enjoying themselves.

"I heard them playing last night," Belle said to him, "I thought you might enjoy this."

They were familiar tunes from his youth, Scottish reels and Irish ballads. He knew them well, but he hadn't heard them in years. He remembered when he was boy seeing the young sweethearts of his village dancing to such gay music and wanting to dance with them. He wished he could now, but he leg prevented him.

He could feel Belle's feet tapping away at the rhythm of the music. "Dance if you like," he told her, "I'd like to see you dance."

She smiled at him, one hand lifting her skirts so she wouldn't trip. He watched as her feet followed the steps, lifting her knees and kicking about on the deck. She twirled and twirled, the satin of her gown gleaming in the light of the ship. Her hair reflected tints of vibrant red. Her blue eyes twinkled with such merriment he could feel his heart lifting inside of his breast. God she was magnificent. He could look at her forever.

The music died down and she giggled her way back towards him, huddling closer for some warmth. He rubbed her bare arms with his hands. "Enjoying yourself, my dear?" he asked.

"Yes."

Then a new tune began, softer and much sweeter. It was a slow song, one he'd never heard before so it was either very old or very new. Belle gasped. "I love this song! Dance with me."

"Belle, I…" he tried to refuse as she pulled him away from the wall.

"It's easy," she told him. She tucked one hand onto his shoulder, the other she put in his palm. He had no choice but to place his other hand at the small of her back. It was a slow song so it shouldn't put too much strain on his leg.

A woman's voice softly began to sing in sweet tones.

_Hold me close and hold me fast_

_The magic spell you cast_

_This is la vie en rose_

Belle smiled up at him. "You're a good dancer."

"You're a good liar," he replied, but he grinned back at her and continued to lead her in this easy waltz.

_When you kiss me heaven sighs_

_And though I close my eyes_

_I see la vie en rose_

"I'm glad I met you, Robert," Belle said, "I hope…I hope we see each other again when we leave."

His heart plummeted at the idea of leaving this ship and never seeing her face every again. "I can't imagine not," he told her. It was the truth. Somehow he would find a way to see her once they reached New York. This couldn't be left out at sea.

_And when you speak_

_Angels sing from above_

_Everyday words seems_

_To turn into love song_

Belle laid her head onto his shoulder. They were dancing far too close than was appropriate, but he didn't care. He could smell the rose scent in her hair. It would be a scent he would commit to memory.

_Give your heart and soul to me_

_And life will always be la vie en rose_

The music softly faded away, but they kept moving slowly, neither willing to part. It wasn't until the bagpipes picked up another sprightly tune that the spell was broken. Belle stepped away, her head bowed a little. They couldn't stay here any longer. If they did he was likely to do something foolish like say he was in love with her, which couldn't be true.

Could it?

"I'll take you to your cabin," Gold said, "Cora will be looking for you soon." She bobbed her head in reply.

They didn't say a word as they made their way to the elevators so he could escort her down to D deck. He knew where her room was now without any direction from her. It was still a bit early in the evening so few people were returning to their rooms for the night. There was no one in the corridor where Belle's cabin was located.

Belle pulled her key out of the tiny beaded clutch she had with her. He watched as she unlocked the door. "Good night, Belle," he said.

He was turning to go when he felt her hand grab his arm. "Wait," she bid him. He turned back to her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I wanted…I…" she stood there, wringing her hands and her lips trembled slightly.

He took a step towards her. "Yes, Belle?"

She finally looked back up into his eyes but didn't say anything. She just stared at him for what seemed like hours. Then she leaned up towards him, her eyes slipping closed. His mid couldn't believe what was happening, but his heart had taken control. Without any conscious intention, he leaned towards her and let her lips caress his.

It was soft, gentle sort of kiss. There was no passion in it, just tender sweetness that burned with a softer, but deeper sort of fire. It only lasted for a few seconds but they were the best seconds of his life.

He broke the kiss before he could let his foolish heart could take this any further, not when anyone could see them. Belle blinked softly at him and he almost dove back in for another kiss. He couldn't think of what to say now, but she found her voice first.

"Good night, Robert," she said and then stepped into her room. The door clicked closed but he stood there like an idiot just staring at the space she occupied. His lips still tingled from the kiss. _By God_, he wondered, _what have I done?_

* * *

_May 1, 1912_

It was in the afternoon when Belle heard a knock on her door. She lay in her bed, trying to read _Les Misérables_. Perhaps it wasn't a cheerful book, but it reminded her of Robert and that meant the world to her. She didn't respond to the knock, but it could only be one of two people: Dobson the butler or her father. She didn't care to talk to either.

"Belle?" her father asked as he poked his head into the door, "Are you well?"

She wanted to say no. She truly wished she was sick in her body and not just in her heart. She chose to say nothing, wishing he would just go away. The last time she went down for dinner her father had told her that the _Mackay Bennett_ had gone to retrieve the bodies from the disaster. She couldn't stomach the thought of Robert being carted aboard like piece of garbage. After that she'd stayed in her room. She hadn't looked at newspapers since the sinking. She didn't want to hear about the investigation or anything. Molly Brown had called once but Belle hadn't answered. She just wanted to be left alone.

"Belle, Gaston is downstairs," her father said as he stepped into the room, "He wants to take you for a drive."

"Tell him I'm not feeling well," she said.

"Is that true?"

She didn't reply. Fantine was despairing over how to care for her young daughter. She had always pitied the poor, betrayed woman. Now it felt like they were kindred spirits, both were heartbroken after a brief, but passionate love affair. Robert had quoted Hugo their first night onboard.

"You can't keep doing this," Moe French declared, "I know I can't understand what it was like being on that cursed ship, but you survived. You don't have be a martyr. You have a fiancé downstairs waiting for you. I want you to get up and go for a drive with him. And for God's sakes, smile! We need Gaston right now more than ever."

Belle rolled over to look at her father, clutching the book to her chest. "Please, father. Don't make me do this. I can't face it all right now. I'm not strong enough."

"We can't lose Gaston," Moe insisted, "Now go down there and be who you used to be."

With that said, he snatched the book from her hands and then slammed the door behind him. He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd slapped her. Books were her only means for escape right now. She just wanted to forget for a while about everything she lost, but this would only serve as a reminder. She was so close to love, to happiness, but it had been ripped away from her.

Belle could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried taking some deep breaths. She couldn't think about the cold water, the horrible screams, way the ship's lights flickered out like all of their hopes before vanishing into the night. No, she couldn't think about that night.

So she thought about the seeing him the moment those elevator doors opened. She remembered how he'd flirted with her that day, how she had blushed so much. The way he'd laughed after they'd run out of the smoking room to get away from the oblivious steward. The look in his eyes as she'd danced with him, how warm and safe she felt in his arms.

Belle clutched Robert's ring in her hand as she forced herself into a burgundy skirt and matching jacket. She pinned her hair and added a hat because she knew her father would insist on it. Robert had loved her hair. She held onto the ring so tightly it dug into her palm.

Gaston was waiting for her in the salon. "Ah, here she is," her father said once she appeared, "Are you ready, Belle?"

"As I can be," she said softly.

"I'm glad we have some time alone," Gaston said with a smile, "It seems like ages since London."

"It has," she agreed. It was a lifetime ago.

His car was a beautiful red and gold runabout with a foldable top. It was lovely spring afternoon so he insisted on driving with the top down. Belle didn't especially care, she looked out at the street as they drove past without any particular interest. Nothing interested her anymore.

"I just bought this car last week," Gaston told her, "Drives beautifully, don't you think?"

"Yes," she said.

"I'll show you the knew rifle I got soon. It's supposed to have great range for hunting. We can go hunting together. I hear there is some beautiful terrain in Spain. We could go there for our honeymoon."

She didn't want to think about their honeymoon. She never wanted to step foot on a boat again. She would never feel secure unless her feet were on solid ground. She grabbed at the ring through the fabric of her blouse. Robert, think about Robert. How his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his lips curled up at the sight of her.

"Did you hear? The _Mackay Bennett_ docked yesterday…"

No! She couldn't hear about that, not about the bodies of all those lost. Oh God, was Robert among them? A part of her wanted to know, but another part of her hated the reminder that he was gone. Gone forever.

"…found John Jacob Astor's. Sounds like the poor man was crushed by one of the funnels, you didn't see that did you?"

"No," she said, swallowing back a wave of nausea.

"Oh," he actually sounded a bit disappointed, "That's good to hear. Found Straus too, but not his wife. Oh, and there was a little boy too that the whole crew is chipping in for a funeral, sad isn't it?"

A child? A tiny boy gone forever. How many children had died? How many were trapped inside that ship when it went down? Belle could see it in her mind, people screaming as the ship raised up towards the heavens. Their hands holding on for dear life before their fingers slipped one by one and they fell towards the crushing sea.

"…still talking about that man who recently woke up, can't remember his name right now, Silver maybe."

It was too much. Belle shook her head. "Stop the car!" she shouted.

"What?"

"Stop the car!"

Gaston slammed on the brakes, the car came to a halt. Belle leapt out of the car while it still rolled slightly and emptied her lunch onto the sidewalk. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to muffle her sobs with her hands, but she knew Gaston could still hear them.

"Are you all right, Belle?" he asked her, "You haven't been any fun since you got back."

"No," she told him, "No I'm not all right." Belle turned around to face him, a new feeling coursing through her blood other than pain. Rage.

"Do you really want to hear about all of it?" she asked him, "Do you want to hear how the ship scraped against the iceberg like a nail on glass? Or how I saw people falling to their deaths as the ship sank down from the head? How about how they screamed for us, begged for God to save them as they drowned? How seven hundred of us sat in the lifeboats and listened to them die and did nothing? Is that what you and my father want to hear?"

Gaston had gone white. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Finally he shut it again. "I'm…I'm sorry, Belle."

She didn't say anything. She opened up the door to car and slid into the seat. "Please, take me home." He did without another word.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Gold awoke from another nightmare of trapped in a cold sea. This time some terrible black creature was trying to pull him down into the dark depths. The beautiful blue-eyed angel was reaching for him again, trying to pull him into safety but the monster was just too strong. He woke up gasping for air again, but this time he knew where he was.

He was in the private parlor of his home. Dr. Whale had been true to his word and had let him return home that morning. Bae and Emma had stayed with him, but as the evening crept closer his son had left to return Emma to her uncle's townhouse. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He hated sleeping now because he always had nightmares.

He reached down for his wrist and felt the silk ribbon. It comforted him somehow, that little strip of cloth that tied him to the earth.

Gold was under strict instructions to remain resting as much as possible. He hated being confined to his bed or the couch, but at least it was in his own home. Bae had refused to let him look at the newspaper, but now he grabbed it from the table and opened it.

**Mackay Bennett Recovers 300 Bodies from Titanic Disaster**

Good God, no wonder Bae had ripped the blasted thing from his hands. He read on, hearing about poor Astor and Straus, not to mention the hundreds of others. So many bodies had been found that they didn't have enough embalming fluid and had to bury over a hundred at sea. _I should have been one of them,_ he thought.

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," he called as he stared at the bleak print on the page. The butler, Dove, entered into the room in long, quick strides.

"Apologies, Mr. Gold, but there is a lady here who insists on seeing you."

"What?" he gasped. His heart leapt into a new rhythm. A lady? For some reason his mind immediately went to the woman he kept seeing in his dreams. Was she real? Could this be her?

"Yes, shall I turn her away?"

"No, bring her in."

He couldn't stand up, but he did try to make himself look a bit more presentable, straightening so he was sitting instead of reclining on the sofa. He waited, nearly holding his breath for _her_ to come in.

"Robert! How wonderful to see you alive!"

His eyes widened in horror at the sound of Cora Mill's greeting him. God no, not her. Why did it have to be her?

She breezed into the room like she owned the place. She put on a large false smile before bending down to plant a kiss on his mouth. "I thought for sure you were lost at sea with the rest of them, didn't we, Regina?"

He hadn't even noticed Cora's daughter standing off to the side. He hadn't seen much of her in the past years, but she'd grown up well. She had the fortune (or misfortune in his opinion) of taking after her mother, but that did mean she was quite beautiful. Not half as much as the angel in his dreams, though. She stared at him with dark eyes and then flickered her gaze away with sniff. How could he had offended her so soon?

"It truly was a horrible night," Cora said solemnly.

Gold frowned. "Were you onboard?"

"Oh yes, don't you remember?"

Gold shook his head. Thank God for that at least. Surely being confined on a boat with Cora for any period of time had been pure hell.

"My goodness, the papers said you had some memory loss, but I didn't think you were so afflicted."

"I'm afraid I have no memory of being onboard," he confessed.

"Nothing?" Cora inquired, "You don't remember anything about the ship or the people you met?"

"No."

"How extraordinary," she gasped. He frowned at her tone. Was there a slight curl to her lips?

"Is there something I should remember?" he asked.

"Oh how should I know?" Cora waved it away. "You know how things are on such large ships. I hardly ever saw you except at dinner. Didn't we, Regina?"

"Yes, mother," she replied coolly.

"I wanted to see you at the hospital but that deplorable Doctor Whale wouldn't allow it." He made a mental note to send a check to Whale for that blessing. "So I promised myself I would come straight here once you were out, so here I am."

"How prompt of you," he said.

"Has anyone else been to see you?"

"No," he told her, "but I only just got home."

"Yes, but no one came to the hospital?"

"Just the press, should I be expecting anyone?"

"I didn't know if any of your friends or business partners came by," Cora said with an innocent smile. There was nothing innocent about this woman.

"I have only a few friends and they clearly decided that I need time to recover before calling."

Cora nodded once. "Of course," she said, still smiling. "Well, I'm glad you are alive and on the mend. Do call on us when you are up and about."

"I'll do my best," he said, _to stay far away from you,_ he added silently.

"We'll leave to rest now, don't get up," she bid him though he made no move to do so, "we'll see ourselves out."

"It was a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Mills," he lied, but did nod towards her daughter, "And you, Miss Mills."

Regina gave him another stony look. If eyes could kill he would be a bloody mess on the ground. Apparently the girl had inherited her mother's temperament, though what cause he had had earned it was beyond him.

He breathed a long sigh of relief once they had gone. He waited a moment before he rung the bell for Dove. The butler responded only a moment later. "Are you in need of anything, sir?"

"The largest glass of brandy available," Gold replied.

"Yes, sir."

"And if Cora Mills calls again tell her I died."

He didn't miss the tone of amusement in Dove's voice as he said, "Of course, sir."

Dove went to the bar and prepared Gold's drink for him. He hated to ask it of the man, but it was the doctor's orders. Of course he doubted Whale wanted him drinking liquor either, but what the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He frowned at the Velázquez painting on the wall before him.

"It's strange that she came calling today," Gold said.

"I suppose so, sir."

"She said she even came to hospital."

"That was kind of her."

"Cora Mills is not kind. She's like a leopard, beautiful but will strike you the moment she can."

Dove finished fixing the drink and walked over to place it in his hand. "Then you believe she came to see you with an ulterior motive, sir?"

"I know it. She wanted to know something." He swirled the brandy around in the glass, staring at it all the while. "She wanted to know if what I knew."

"About what?"

"Hell if I know," he said. He took a sip of the brandy, letting it sit on his tongue. He pulled the glass away from his mouth and shut his eyes.

"Sir?"

Gold opened his eyes. "Yes, Dove?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he told him, "It's just…for a moment I thought I remembered something." Something about brandy and a cigar and…something.

* * *

**Historical Note:** Okay, I admit, I fudged a bit here. The song "La Vie En Rose" was not written until 1945, but I heard it on How I Met Your Mother weeks ago and just knew it was the perfect song for them so I had to do it. Hopefully you all can forgive me for that. It is a beautiful song that will return in this story, I promise.

A total of 328 bodies were pulled from the Atlantic after the wreck. The _Mackay Bennett_ picked up 306 of those bodies. The rest were recovered by passing ships who were also nearby. Sadly, 116 had to be buried at sea either because they were so decomposed they couldn't be embalmed, while others were because they ran out of embalming supplies. John Jacob Astor is probably the most famous body recovered and there are reports that say that his body was soot covered and crushed so he probably when the funnel collapsed on him when in the water. However, I have heard this is false, but since I read it in a well acclaimed book about the disaster, I decided to include it. Isidor Straus's body was also found, but sadly not his wife. It is also true that the body of a young toddler, a boy of about two, was found by the _Mackay Bennett. _He was a third class passenger and there was nothing to identify him, but the crew was so saddened by his loss that they paid for the boy's funeral service and grave at the Titanic cemetery in Halifax. In 2007 he was finally identified through DNA as Sidney Leslie Goodwin, the youngest of six children of Fredrick and August Goodwin. All eight members of the Goodwin family died on the Titanic, but Sidney's was the only body recovered. His grave in Halifax is often covered with children's toys.

**A/N:** So Cora knows Gold doesn't remember Belle, but she didn't say a word. Poor Belle is still recovering from the sinking and mourning Robert (she is going through PTSD by the way so it's not entirely her fault that she's a bit emotional). Things have now moved out of the grey "friendship" area between the two and it's obvious this it is becoming more. Now we have two days left until the sinking, what do you think will happen next?

Next Chapter: Cora informs Robert about something Belle has kept from him. A scandal is narrowly avoided on the Promenade deck. Back in the present, Belle struggles to find the courage to tell her father she no longer wants to marry Gaston, even though she believed Robert is dead. Gold goes to his first appointment with Dr. Hopper but is afraid of what he might remember.


	4. Scandalous Happenings

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. If I owned the Titanic or Once Upon a Time I would live a much more exciting life.

A/N: So I totally meant to update Only a Rose first, but I got stuck on a scene and I figured I'd just get started on this chapter until I got over my writer's block. Oops. Oh well, I guess I'm just anxious to get to the sinking, even though this chapter isn't quite there yet. I do hope you like it. Lots of Rumbelle goodness here, I promise.

**Anonymous** **Reviews:**

**Guest:** Thank you so much for reviewing, I'm glad you like it so far, especially the historical stuff. History is one of my weaknesses which is why this story is so much fun.

**person:** I'm glad you did enjoy this fic, despite having your doubts. I'm sorry you don't care for my historical notes but they aren't there to point out what didn't happen, but to show what has inspired me. I like to share events and things that were actually on the Titanic, not tell you what is not true. It's actually common in historical fiction for authors to include a historical note so readers can learn about the history behind the story. If you don't care for the historical notes than simply skip them.

**Guest:** I'm glad it keeps getting better and better for you. I hope this chapter is your favorite so far.

**prttykitt7728:** So glad you like it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too.

* * *

Chapter 4: Scandalous Happenings

_May 18, 1912_

Belle woke up angry with the sun for rising again. She hadn't wanted this day to come, but her father refused to let her postpone it any longer. Tonight they were hosting another party, this one to announce her engagement to Gaston. She hadn't been looking forward to it before she left Southampton, but now she loathed the whole affair entirely.

The sinking had drained her of all of her strength. She spent her days shut away in her room unless her father forced her out into the world. He was doing that more and more, though Gaston had finally learned to not talk about the _Titanic_ when in her presence. She knew it couldn't go on forever. She had to break off the engagement eventually.

Belle knew most girls would just go through with it. So she'd had a wonderful, but tragic romance when abroad. No one knew. Robert was dead, her father was still financially ruined, so her most lucrative opportunity was to marry Gaston. Not her though. Not when her heart was lost forever.

She just didn't have to strength to tell her father this. She knew she needed to, she knew hiding away wouldn't solve anything, but she just couldn't do it. Her Aunt Lydia would be ashamed of her, just like she was of Miss Aurora Thorne when her entire family was killed in a fire, but she survived because she had been out visiting friends. Belle remembered Aurora had shut herself away, refusing to leave her room or accept her visitors, despite her grandfather's attempts to coax her out. It wasn't until she was nineteen when Mr. Phillip Princeton had the daring to sneak into the house while her grandfather was away to see the mysterious hermit girl. It had been a quite a scandal in Pennsylvania, but a week later Aurora was out and touring the town on Princeton's arm.

Belle finally understood why young Aurora had felt the need to hide away all of those years. There was shame in being a survivor when people you knew and loved had died. Aurora must have stared at her reflection and wondered, "Why me?" Belle couldn't help but think the same. How could she have survived and so many others not? How could Robert be gone so soon after she met him?

Her father had forbidden the kitchen staff to send anymore trays to her room, giving her no choice but to venture out for her meals. Recently she had taken to forgoing breakfast. For the past two days she'd started feeling queasy in the mornings. But last night he made it clear he expected to see her in the dining room.

So with a rolling stomach and a heavy heart, Belle dressed and went down to have a tense breakfast with her father, at least Gaston wasn't visiting again. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking her seat. He paid her no mind and she ignored the newspaper he was looking at. She didn't want to hear anything more about the inquiry into the sinking.

The kitchen maid brought in their fruit and coffee. The bitter smell had Belle asking for tea instead, peppermint was preferable to settle her stomach. She picked at the melons and strawberries with little enthusiasm. She remembered the baked apples at her first breakfast on the _Titanic_, how they had melted in her mouth, filled with that perfect amount of sweetness and spice. The memory of something so simple brought tears to her eyes.

"Damned market," her father complained and threw the paper down on the table, "Never any good news for honest men like me."

She knew that wasn't the problem. Her father had been so used to money that he'd squandered his wealth on races and poor investments in the market. Now she was paying the price for his foolishness. Robert never would have made that mistake. Their chess games together showed her what a keen strategist he was, not to mention his brilliant mind.

"Not hungry, Belle?" he nodded to her plate.

"I don't have much of an appetite."

"Ah," he said as he dug into his fruit, "Too excited for tonight, I imagine. Yes, it will be quite the occasion. We're sparing no expense."

"No," she said towards her fruit, "No, I'm just not feeling well. Perhaps we should postpone."

"Not this again," he grumbled, "Gaston and I already postponed when you first returned. I agreed that it wouldn't look right in the wake of such a tragedy, but it's been nearly a month. It is time to announce your engagement."

"But father, I really don't—."

"I won't hear it," he snapped, "You've gone on like this long enough. We will announce the engagement tonight, then you will marry in the fall."

The fall? That was only months away. She had thought she might have until next spring, but she should have realized he'd push the date up as soon as he could. He'd probably have her married in the morning if it wasn't so unseemly.

The maid came to take their plates and pour more coffee. Belle sat in silence while her father prattled on. "Of course Mr. Blackwell will be coming. I received word from your cousin Cora that she and Regina are unable to come tonight."

Finally a bit of good news. Belle had nothing against Regina, but right now both her and her mother were a reminder of that horrible night. She knew she wasn't strong enough to see either of them yet, especially not Cora.

The maid came out with baked ham and fried potatoes. Belle's stomach gave a frightful turn once she smelled the cooked meat and vegetables. She tried to sit it out, but once the maid set the plate in front of her it was just too much. "Excuse me," she managed to squeak out before she fled the room.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

It had taken much bullying, cajoling, and nearly bribery to finally get Gold to Dr. Hopper's office for his first session. He was finally well enough to start getting back to his daily routine, but slowly. Bae was still steering most of the work away from him, but at least he didn't feel completely worthless anymore. The days were the easiest, the nights were torture.

He sat outside the office his fingers toying with the ribbon around his wrist. He used to play with his ring when he was lost in thought, but since that was at the bottom of the sea he had taken to using the ribbon as his talisman. He didn't like the idea of seeing a therapist. It seemed to be the sort of practice only those with weak minds engaged in and he always considered himself made of sterner stuff. But Bae was insistent.

Finally the door opened and gentle looking man stepped out. He wore a tweed jacket and brown trousers. He had a shock of red hair on his head and his merry eyes were surrounded with round glasses. He wasn't at all the sort Gold had expected.

"Mr. Gold?" the man said in a soft voice that Gold doubted could ever shout in anger, "I'm Dr. Archibald Hopper."

"A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hopper." They shook hands like gentleman do.

"Please, call me Archie," he said as he led him into the office, "This work isn't really for formalities. Would you mind if I called you Robert?"

"I don't see why not," Gold said, "As long as nothing I say leaves this room."

"Of course not. Everything you say is under doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Good." Gold took up a seat on the couch while Dr. Hopper pulled up a chair. "I don't know much about this sort of thing, never really believed in it. I'm not sure how this starts."

"It starts with whatever you are comfortable with. This is our first session, we don't have to do delve into any topics you don't wish to."

"Seems like a slow start," Gold told him, "I'm not known for my conversation."

Dr. Hopper nodded. "Tell me about your son. He is the one who contacted me, he must really be concerned about you."

"Yes, he is." He smiled fondly at the mention of Bae. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. I do try and tell him that everything is fine. I don't even remember the sinking so it's not like it can hurt me."

"You may not remember it consciously, but the memories are is still in there, Robert. They could be hurting you subconsciously."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you been having dreams? Do you have any memories of the ship?"

Gold frowned at the man. "What has my son told you?"

"Nothing. I only have your report from Dr. Whale. He only said that you suffer from a probable temporary amnesia caused by the intense hypothermia coupled with a head injury."

"That makes sense to me," Gold said.

"And yet I'm curious as to why you still don't remember anything," Dr. Hopper said, "Normally a person suffering from amnesia caused by a physical trauma, especially hypothermia, would already be remembering things. And your amnesia is very selective which makes me think this a bit more than just a bump to the head."

"You sound like my son's sweetheart," Gold told him with sniff.

"And what does she say?"

"That maybe I was blocking the memories. She reads too much."

"Actually that is exactly what I am saying."

Gold stiffened in his seat. "Are you calling me a coward?" It wouldn't be the first time.

"No, of course not. All of this is not a conscious decision by you. But the facts are that you survived a truly traumatic event, a disaster that no one has seen the likes of before and hopefully never again. The fact that you survived it is amazing, but perhaps your mind is afraid to let you remember it. Your brain is protecting you by shielding it from the pain."

Gold rubbed his fingers across the silk tied around his wrist. That did make sense and didn't make him seem like some child afraid of the dark. "So I will never remember."

"Now I didn't say that," Dr. Hopper told him, "There are several tricks to helping you remember."

"All right then," he said with a tightening in his chest, "Let's do it then."

"Oh I don't mean we'll do any of that today. You need to know if you are ready to remember, Robert, and to deal with the effects of those memories."

"Can't we just let it be?" Gold asked him, "Why would I want to remember any of that anyways?"

Dr. Hopper pondered that for a moment. "You don't strike me as the type of a man who likes holes in his life. You've built yourself a very powerful empire, surely you didn't do that by leaving parts unfinished. Right now that is what your memory is, unfinished."

Gold couldn't very well deny that. All of his contracts were airtight with no loopholes for anyone to jump out of. "You make a good point."

"We don't have to worry about any of that right now. We'll keep talking until you feel secure enough to know what happened."

Gold gave him a nod, but he kept his hand wrapped around the wrist that held his ribbon. The backs of his knuckles gleamed white up at him. He didn't have to remember to know how terrible some of those memories were going to be. Some might call him a coward, but he was afraid. The true test of a man was his actions under the most daunting of circumstances. What sort of man had he been when the cold sea was reaching out for him as a ship sank beneath his feet? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. The nightmares were bad enough, the memories would be worse. Much worse.

* * *

_April 13, 1912_

Gold must have been in a daze before he went to bed because he managed to sleep the whole night without any troubled dreams or panicked thoughts. When dawn hit it all sank in. Belle had kissed him. He'd kissed her back as well. By all accounts of society on both sides of the Atlantic he was a reprehensible ass. He should have gone through this courtship with the proper proceedings, starting with getting permission from her father. But for some reason it felt like the rules had lessened at sea and that time was slipping away. There really was no time limit, if he wanted to he could see her when they docked. And he wanted to, by God did he want to.

Did she?

He didn't bother with going over work before breakfast, instead he went down to the swimming pool on F deck to work out his thoughts with exercise. After his accident, conventional means of exercise were out of the question. He had taken to swimming as soon as he was able to help reduce his stress as well as keep from turning into one of those tubby figure heads at the top of an empire. Now he was quite a strong swimmer, even converted his ballroom at his home into a heated indoor swimming pool. But since meeting Belle his first day onboard, he'd fallen behind on his usual exercise and this was his first time at the _Titanic's_ pool.

It wasn't as large as his pool at home, but far better than the pool his hotel in London had offered. It was early enough that he had it all to himself. He swam fifty laps before he decided to get out so he would have time to change. He skipped the Turkish bath, though he'd heard Guggenheim rave about the luxury yesterday at dinner.

His hair was still damp when he reached his room, still wearing his robe and swimming costume. Unfortunately, he saw that his morning wasn't going to continue as well as it had begun. Cora stood there, waiting outside of his door. She probably knocked but upon finding no answer chose to wait him out. He couldn't very well turn and run, not when he wasn't properly dressed.

"Mrs. Mills," he said in greeting because he had to, "I'm surprised to find you here."

"Yes, I suppose this isn't conventional, but I felt I needed to talk with you," she said, flashing him her best smile. It did nothing for him.

"Can't this wait until breakfast?"

"No, I wanted to speak with you in private."

"Then do give me the chance to change."

"Of course." He let her come inside, but brought her to the small parlor that adjoined his suite. He had wondered if he would ever use the little sitting area, but now he was glad he'd paid the extra money for a suite. He was more than tempted to just lock her inside.

Kent came from his room to help Gold dress and take his wet things. Gold was rather slow in his movements, desperate to put this off as long as he could. Finally, he could find no excuse to tarry any longer. "If I wind up killing her, Kent, be a good chap and help me toss her body overboard."

Kent let out a chuckle. "Of course, sir."

Cora had perched herself on one plush green sofa. She didn't seem uncomfortable at all. She always walked into a room and immediately decided she belonged there. She knew how to own every room she stepped in, no matter how brief a guest she was. "All right, dearie, get on with it," he said. He took up the seat across from her, keeping his cane up and ready to serve as a barrier between them.

"Really, Robert, there's no need to be hostile," she said coolly, "I thought we were friends."

"We were never that, Cora."

She smiled a little. "Indeed, we were much more."

"If you've come to take me back you can save your breath, I'm not interested."

"I'm flattered that you're first inclination is that I want to marry you," Cora said sweetly, "I'll always be fond of you, Robert."

"I doubt that," he muttered to himself.

"But I'm afraid I have no intention of marrying anytime soon," she continued like he hadn't spoken.

"I'll be sure to toast to that later."

"I came here to talk to you about your relationship with my cousin, Belle."

He wasn't sure why that hadn't occurred to him. Cora had been scheming to separate them the night before, naturally when that failed she would pretend now to be the dutiful chaperone.

"I wasn't aware that she was _your_ cousin," he hissed.

"By law she is and I promised to look after her."

"Well that's very noble of you," he said, "Her father must be a very close friend." Her mask slipped a bit, a flicker of rage appeared on her face. She quickly gathered her composure, sitting up straighter and giving him a frosty smile like the Ice Queen she was.

"I want to make sure you know what you are doing," Cora said, "You two have been as thick as thieves ever since we boarded, but you have to know how ridiculous a relationship back home would be for you two."

"My relationship with Belle is not your concern," he told her.

"But it is my concern. She's under my care."

"You're not her mother, her aunt, not even a blood relation. She is twenty years old and can decide her own life."

"Robert, she is twenty eight years younger than you," Cora reminded, "You can't seriously be considering this. You said you would never be tempted to marry again."

"Cora, I already told you this is none of your business."

"This is my business. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

"I have no intention of hurting her," Gold said. He wasn't entirely certain where their relationship was heading, but he knew he would keelhaul himself before harming Belle in any way.

"It's not her I'm worried about."

He gave her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"

Cora's lips turned up. "She didn't tell you."

"Tell me what."

"Why do you think she came with me to Europe?"

"I bloody know why, her father has squandered his fortune and wanted her to find a husband. She's been honest with me, Cora."

"Has she?" she said with evident surprise, "So you know about Gaston Knightly?"

He froze. His stomach clenched into a Gordian knot. "Who?"

She smiled at him again. "Her fiancé."

It took everything he had not to show himself, but he was certain Cora knew anyways. The way she smiled at him, her dark eyes twinkling with delight. She loved causing pain. She loved feeling like the smartest person in the room. "You said she was honest with you, she must have told you she's engaged. Gaston went back to New York last month, they're supposed to be married before the year is out."

His hands tightened at the top of his cane, but he pushed it all away. This was Cora he was dealing with, this could easily be a trick. "And how are you so certain of this?" he challenged.

Cora reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Her father sent me this letter just before we left for Southampton."

Gold took the parchment and unfolded it. There was much scribbled on the page, but he could tell it wasn't Cora's writing. The date written at the top verified that it was written before their departure from England. He scanned the lines until he found the one he knew Cora wanted him to read.

_"I am heartily in your thanks for helping my Belle find a good match. Mr. Knightly is everything I could hope for in a son-in-law. I'm confident the wedding will be in the fall and I am hopeful you will be in attendance…"_

"Gaston is quite a handsome man," Cora went on, "Only twenty-five and the heir to his father's fur salons out on the west coast. I imagine Belle will enjoy California. I went there once with Henry and it really is quite charming. She seemed to get along well with him in France. I'm certain she'll be in delicate condition soon after the wedding." Core grinned wickedly. "He seemed up to the task."

"Oh, did you try him out yourself then?" he snapped.

"Really, Robert, don't be so vulgar," she chided him gently, "I do hate to cause you pain, but I'm only trying to be a good friend. You should be flattered that she saw you as a good diversion before she gave herself up to marriage."

"Yes, well, I've always been good at being that, now haven't I?"

Cora clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Oh dear. Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. I do apologize if I hurt you." She took the letter back from him and stood up. "I'll take my leave. I'll see you at dinner, Robert."

He said nothing, just let her see herself out. He sat there in silence for a while before he slowly stood up from the sofa. He barely saw the room, but his eyes settled on a crystal vase full of fresh lilies. Belle had marveled yesterday how the ship managed to supply fresh flowers everyday for their rooms. He went over to the blooms, inhaling their cloying scent. Then he picked up the vase and threw it up against the wall, flowers and all.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Belle woke up with a smile. She couldn't believe what she'd done the night before, but she didn't feel at all ashamed. Her great aunt would call her a wanton for what she'd done. But was it wanton when it didn't feel wrong?

She had kissed Robert. What's more he had kissed her back. It had been such a sweet, beautiful moment. Far better than any in her limited experience. She'd fancied one boy when she was sixteen, but only kissed him out of curiosity rather than affection. She'd let Gaston kiss her because she felt she had to, especially since he was to be her husband. But this…this was the first time she ever initiated a kiss. It was the first time she ever kissed a man because her heart yearned for it.

She eagerly dressed without even bothering to call for Fiona's help. She wanted to be ready to meet Robert for breakfast as soon as Cora and Regina were settled. Thinking about Regina reminded her that she owed her cousin her thanks for the night before. She knocked on their adjoining door and entered when she was bid.

Regina was up as well. Fiona was just finishing her hair. "Oh, Belle, you're ready early."

"Yes, I'm quite famished," she said. It wasn't a complete lie, she was hungry, but seeing Robert was more appealing than the finest breakfast in the world.

"Thank you, Fiona, you may go," Regina bid her.

"Yes, miss." Fiona bobbed a little curtsy before retreating out of the room.

"Is Cora ready?" Belle asked.

"She left earlier for some errand, but she should be back soon."

Excellent. Cora was away which meant they could talk freely. "I wanted to thank you for last night," Belle said as she took up a seat beside Regina's dressing table.

"Don't worry about. Now we're even for you helping me see Daniel the other day."

"Do you have plans with him today? I'd be more than happy to cover for you again."

"That would be wonderful!" Regina exclaimed, "I'll have lunch with mother, but then I'll make up some excuse, you're such a dear, Belle."

"It's no trouble at all," Belle said with a giggle, "Who knew we'd both be having secret rendezvous on this trip."

Regina smiled at her, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Are you sure you know what you're doing with Mr. Gold? Won't this be bad considering your engagement to Gaston?"

Belle's mood dampened at the mention of her soon-to-be fiancé. Sometimes she forgot that this ship was bringing her closer and closer to him. "I really like, Robert," she confessed, "Much more than a friend. I'm not sure what will happen when we leave, but I know I want to find out where this will lead. If it's just a bit of shipboard fun…then what's the harm?"

She smiled a little. "But maybe this can be more than that. I do hope so."

"Well, as long as you're certain," Regina said, "but please be careful."

"I shall, I promise."

The door opened and Cora waltzed in, a large smile painted on her face. "Oh good, you're both ready. Come on, let's get down to the dining room."

Belle was excited to finally get down to the dining room, but was disappointed to find Robert wasn't there. She chose a seat next to Molly Brown and waited to see when he would arrive. It wasn't until the waiters came by to ask what they wanted for their first course that she realized he wasn't.

His absence spoiled her appetite and she only picked at the tomato and cheese omelet she ordered. She had thought he would come. He had yesterday morning after she had told him she'd missed him before. Why had he chosen to stay in his room again?

Once breakfast was over, Belle went on a search for him. She considered going to his room, but she only knew it was on B deck and no steward would direct her to his cabin without asking questions. She went to the promenade on A deck and walked around it twice but saw no sign of him. She went up to the gymnasium on the boat deck where she stopped to watch a man ride a fascinating contraption called a mechanical camel. Robert wasn't there.

Her final option was the lounge where many of the first class passengers frequented for socializing. Several had set up card games at the tables. Waiters went around offering coffee, tea or liquor. Belle scanned the room for Robert. She saw Cora sitting with Lady Duff Gordon and the Countess of Rothes, but she had no desire to join them.

She looked amongst the card players, smiling when she finally saw Robert's familiar frame. He was sitting at a game of bridge with Colonel Gracie, Mr. Straus, and Mrs. Strauss. Molly Brown was sitting nearby and waved when she saw her.

"There you are, Belle," Molly said when she reached her side, "I was wondering where you'd run off to."

"I was just exploring the ship some more," she said without ever taking her eyes off of Robert. He was quite a good bridge player, but that didn't surprise her. He was so terribly clever and that was the key to any game. He never even glanced in her direction though she knew he had to be aware she was there.

"You care to join them in the next round?" Molly asked.

"I'm not very good, I'm afraid," Belle said, "I think I'll just watch."

"Suit yourself, Bobby here knows his way with a deck of cards. I bet he'd clean the house at poker."

"Quite right, Mrs. Brown," Robert spoke up from the table. Belle stared at him in surprise, but he never looked at her.

Belle watched them play for a while, chatting with Molly because she wasn't sure of what else to do. Molly was very funny and eager to tell tales of her rather colorful life. Aunt Lydia would have really liked her, they were of similar characters. But Belle could only devote half of her attention to Molly as she kept waiting for Robert to just glance at her.

Finally the game broke up when lunch was getting ready to begin. Belle broke away from Molly to step right in front of Robert. He stared at her so coldly she felt a shiver go up her spine. "Miss French," he said with a nod.

"I'll see you in the dining room, Mr. Gold," she said. It felt wrong to call him that, especially after last night.

"I'm dining with Colonel Gracie in the restaurant."

"Oh," she said, before he brushed past her to follow the cheerful colonel to their arranged plans. Her cheeks felt hot as tears gathered in her eyes. What was the matter with him? Just yesterday they had been so perfect, why was he being so cold now?

Belle looked up and saw Cora watching her from her chair. There was wicked smile on her face that made Belle turn away so she wouldn't see her wet eyes. She hurried back down to her cabin where she could be alone. She wasn't hungry for lunch and certainly had no desire to sit with Cora for the entire meal without Robert beside her.

Did he regret what happened last night? Perhaps this had only been a flight of fancy for him and now he was giving her to cut direct so she wouldn't get her hopes up. Then why kiss her back? Why dance with her to _La Vie en Rose_? Something wasn't right, and as soon as she finished letting her heartbreak then she would go and find out.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Dinner was, as always, a lengthy affair, but Belle felt that the eleven courses stretched on for an eternity. Everyone talked about the latest events in New York or Paris, discussed the exquisiteness of the food, as well as the scandals attached to their acquaintances who were not present at the table. It was all the same, but Belle remained silent for once. She had tried to speak with Robert all evening, but other than simple pleasantries laced with ice, he had nothing to say to her. It was so unlike him. The evening past they'd bantered with sly critiques about their companions while their tablemates had been none the wiser. He'd given her secret little smiles, smiles that made her heart race inside of her bosom. Now he hardly looked at her.

No, instead he played along with Cora's prodding, paying more attention to Regina and her mother than Belle. She didn't like that sharp sting that festered in her heart every time he smiled at them and not her. She knew him. This was another game he was playing, except this time she wasn't one of the players. She ate her poached salmon but did not taste it. Not even the crème brulee, her favorite dish, could fill her with any enthusiasm.

Once the coffee and port had been served, the men were ready to retire for brandy and cigars in the smoking room. She could never understand why men felt the need to cloister themselves in a room full of tobacco smoke and liquor in order to discuss the fundamental details of government, finances, and business. God forbid a woman to have an opinion on any of those masculine subjects.

Belle excused herself from the table, feigning a headache. She followed the men to the staircase, but noticed Robert and Mr. Guggenheim were headed for the elevators. She followed at a discreet distance, stepping onto the elevator next to theirs just after their gate closed. She didn't know how she was going to get his attention, but she was hoping Fate would prevail in someway.

Luck was on her side. She got off the elevator on A deck to see that Mr. Guggenheim was engaging in a conversation with a steward over some matter with the lighting in his room. Belle saw Robert was not waiting for his companion, but already on his way to the smoking room. She tried to keep herself steady in her slippers and hurried to grab the arm that wasn't occupied with the cane.

He let out a rather undignified noise at her sudden appearance, then hissed out, "Miss French?" but she ignored him. Instead she tugged him out of the corridor and into the promenade. The wide expanse of deck was empty as it was a cold night and most everyone was still at dinner. Her location was ideal for privacy, but her dress was not suitable for the environment. The green silk dress with a jet black beaded overlay and a creamy lace accent was short sleeved, designed only to be worn indoors. She would just have to ignore the chilly air for now.

"Miss French, what on earth do you think you are doing?"

"Giving us some privacy," Belle said. She knew what a scandal this would cause if they were caught out here. It was different to be seen walking with him on the promenade in the afternoon or playing chess in the library. This suggested something far more intimate than a shipboard friendship.

The electric lights illuminated the deck, bringing out the tints of gold in his brown hair. But the light wasn't bright enough to brig out his eyes, making them look dark and sinful instead of warm. He gave her a puzzled look that she was certain he was faking. "Whatever for?"

"You know exactly why," Belle said, "You've been ignoring me all day and I can't understand why."

"I haven't been ignoring you, dearie," he said coolly, "I have been nothing but polite."

"Exactly," she said, "You are treating my like everyone else on this ship. Except for Cora and Regina, tonight you've been hanging on their every word."

"Well I have known them for many years."

"That didn't stop your obvious contempt for them for the past three days," Belle pointed out. "You're doing this on purpose, you're distancing yourself from me." A cold knot formed in her stomach as the only possible answer finally reached her. "Are you…do you regret what happened yesterday?"

She saw a flicker of something pass across his face, but his armor came back up quickly. "I don't know what you mean, dearie."

"No!" she shouted and poked one finger into his chest, "No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to pretend it didn't happen. We _kissed_! You kissed me! You can't tell me that didn't mean anything to you!"

"Why should I?" he asked her, "It's not like it meant anything to you."

"What?" she gasped out, "Why—why would you think that? Robert, you have to know how much it—."

"No, dearie, I'm not falling for that again." He tried to turn away, but Belle grabbed his arm again to stop him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Belle insisted, "Please, just tell me what you think I did."

"You did nothing. I have been a fool this entire time," he said darkly, "I should have realized someone as young and beautiful as you was only toying with a man like me. This is a rather long voyage, some harmless flirting with the wealthy man is the just the thing to pass the time."

Belle gaped at him for a second, her eyes wide and unblinking. She couldn't believe he had said that. She'd heard the rumors, the warnings, read in the papers about Robert Gold's cold hearted way of cutting through his enemies. But she hadn't seen him act like that way until now.

"Robert," she said his name again, pulling on his arm once more to keep him from leaving, "You can't possibly believe that. I would never do such a thing. I have enjoyed every moment I've spent with you. I don't know who…" she answered her own question just before she let it be born, "Cora. She's been talking to you, hasn't she? You can't believe her, Robert. She's been trying to force you and Regina together. She would say anything to make you believe that I am insincere."

"Including the fact that you are engaged?" he said sharply.

Belle felt like the air was knocked out of her. She hadn't see that coming, thought she should have. She had just said herself that Cora would say anything to make sure Gold turned his eye to Regina. "She said that?"

"Is it true?"

"No," she said and then bit her lip, looking down at her green slippers, "Not exactly."

"I'm curious, how can you 'not exactly' be engaged?"

"He hasn't asked," Belle said, "Not yet." She took in a deep breath of the chilly night air and let it out slowly. "I have been honest of my family's circumstances, you know this."

"Indeed, I do," he said, "is your fiancé not rich enough for you, so you set your sights on me?"

"No!" she shouted again, "I don't care about your money, his money or even my father's lack of money. I was shipped off to Europe to catch some rich bachelor's eye. I was pushed onto so many dance floors, sent on so many carriage rides, my aunt even suggested I try my hand at seduction just so I could catch a husband. I wanted none of it, so my uncle found Gaston. I didn't choose him or any of this, but that doesn't matter much to anyone. I'm a woman so I have no choice but to do as my father says, and later as my husband commands."

Belle shut her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Gaston left for New York last month. I've been expecting a telegram from my father announcing my engagement ever since. It's probably being wired as we speak. I just wanted this last week for myself, so I can do what I want to do. Honestly, I just though I would shut myself away in the library the whole trip with a stack of books for company. I didn't expect to meet you."

"How am I significant in your fight for independence?" he asked, "Are you saying you'd rather marry me than him?"

"No, it's not that," Belle said, "I just…I didn't expect to find someone like you, someone who sees me the way I want to be seen, who listens to what I say, who encourages me in my opinions. I've spent twenty years being the perfect daughter, pretending to be someone I'm not. You saw the real me the moment we came on board."

She felt some tears pricking at her eyes, but she didn't want him to see them. She still couldn't read his impassable face. "You can avoid me until New York, you can court Regina or even Cora to your pleasure, but you can't take away yesterday from me because that was the first time I've done something for me."

Belle wasn't going to back down. She knew what she'd just said was bold and entirely inappropriate, but she didn't care. It was all the truth. Even if he didn't believe her, she wasn't going to take it back.

He stared at her for a long time. They had been out in the cold for several minutes, but she didn't feel it. A heat was building up inside of her. The longer she stared into his eyes the hotter the blood pumped through her veins.

His eyes narrowed at her at last and he shook his head. "Damn you!" he hissed before he shoved her up against the wall and slammed his mouth onto hers.

Belle didn't have any choice to participate, not that she didn't want to. He didn't kiss her, he devoured her. His lips forced hers apart so he could slip his tongue inside and taste her. One hand cupped her throat while the other raked through her hair, sending several pins to the floor. It was a bruising kiss, but she didn't care. She loved every minute of it.

Belle plunged her fingers through his long hair, raking her nails down his nape that had him growling into her mouth. She had never been kissed like this. She doubted she would ever be kissed like this again.

They had to break apart for air, both of them gasping as they stared into each other's eyes. His pupils had all but swallowed every ounce of color there, gleaming and hot with something. Lust, she realized. So this was passion. She wanted more of it, so much more of him.

She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she leaned forward to swipe her tongue along his bottom lip and then nipped it with her teeth. The groan that escaped from his chest sent a column of heat spiraling to her core. He pushed her back to the wall so hard her head thudded against it. He didn't kiss her mouth this time, but started a trail of hot kisses along the line of her jaw.

Belle clutched at his coat, grabbing handfuls of the fabric. He moved his lips down the column of her neck, nuzzling the spot where her shoulder met her throat with his nose. Then he sank his teeth into that bit of flesh, sucking into his mouth. She couldn't stop the moan that escaped her even if she'd wanted to. He laved at the bruised skin with his tongue. She gasped out his name and tried to pull his lips back to hers.

He ignored her demands, choosing instead to nip and suck at the exposed portion of her bosom. The neckline of her dress wasn't daringly low, not with the bit of lace that preserved her modesty. But the lace did nothing to keep his lips away from her skin. If he pulled down her dress a little, tugged at her corset, he could expose her breasts to his gaze. The thought of him seeing her like that, of him kissing her breasts, sent more heat pooling in her belly.

He didn't expose her bosoms, though she had a feeling he'd considered it. He did dip his tongue into that bit of cleft that was shown. Belle finally tugged him up by his hair so she could attack his mouth again. She slid her arms through his jacket so she could feel the heat of his skin through the linen of his shirt. She didn't want this moment to end. She forgot about the ship, her impending engagement, everything. It was just her and him, alone in their own perfect little world.

Or so she thought.

The sound of someone clearing their throat shattered the illusion they had created. Gold tore his mouth away from hers and they both looked to see who had discovered them.

"Well, I was feeling a bit cold out here, but you two look darn cozy to me." Molly Brown had a mischievous grin on her face. She was still in her evening dress, complete with the audacious red feather in her hair.

Belle felt her face burn with crimson color. Even if Molly hadn't seen them in such a passionate embrace, there was no doubt what they were up to. Robert's hair was mussed and his jacket was wrinkled. She looked worse. Her curls were falling free from their pins and her lips were swollen, not to mention the love bite blooming on her neck.

Robert took a step away, but didn't bother to pretend like they hadn't been caught in such a compromising position. Molly's twinkling eyes told them there was no use in that. "Mrs. Brown, what are you doing here?"

"I just stepped out here for a bit of air," she said, "Her high and mighty Lady Duff Gordon was giving me a headache with her perfume, didn't expect to find anyone else out here." She grinned. "I guess neither were you."

Belle bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Was there any chance a giant whirlpool would open up and swallow them and the entire ship? That would be preferable to this. She didn't want to think what Robert was feeling. He was always so careful with his dignity, now it lay shattered at Molly's feet.

"Indeed not," he admitted under his breath.

"Well since I found you, I might as well say that her viperous cousin was looking for her," Molly said, "She was going to check the library first, but if she finds she's not in her cabin there'll be hell to pay."

"Oh God," Belle gasped. Cora would tie her to the ship and tow her back to shore on a rope if she discovered what they had just done. Not to mention, she would cheerfully inform her father and the rest of the world about her wanton behavior. She would be ruined and Robert would be seen as a lecherous man, seducing an innocent girl.

"Thank you, Molly," Belle said, "I'll go to my cabin now."

"I'll escort you," Robert said.

Belle shook her head. "No, the men are probably wondering where you are. If Cora finds out you were with me she's bound to put it all together. I'll go alone."

Still, she couldn't help but give his hand a gentle squeeze and whispering, "I meant what I said before." She didn't imagine the way his lips curled up a little. Oh how she wanted to kiss him again, but Molly was still watching them and Cora was so close.

Belle gave him one last wistful look before finding the door and returning to the corridor. She took the elevator down to D deck because she knew she couldn't be seen by anyone. She pinned her hair back as best she could, but there was no way to hide the mark left by Robert. Her stateroom was still dark and one quick peek through Cora's adjoining door showed that her cousin wasn't there yet. She was safe.

Belle sank into her bed with a sigh, hugging her middle as the laugh bubbled free from her lips. How perfect and wonderful the night had become. She didn't care that she would have to wear a scarf around her neck tomorrow for Sunday's service. All she wanted to do was see Robert again. How she couldn't wait until tomorrow!

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Gold must have talked about the latest on the Taft and Roosevelt feud, the deplorable state of the steel market, and every other shop talk the wealthy men on board the _Titanic_ discussed while smoking and drinking. He was sure he enjoyed a cigar and a fine sifter of brandy, but he couldn't recall a moment of it. His mind wasn't in the Georgian decorated room, but out on the cold promenade deck where he'd had an armful of Belle.

He should be appalled by what he'd done. He was a grown man in his forties with a wildly successful business, a son to be proud of, and a much needed divorce under his belt. He was not the type of man to pin young debutants to the wall like some wet behind the ears schoolboy. But by God, he wanted to do it again! He wished he was still out there, whispering filthy words in her ear and tasting the sweet honey of her lips. His blood soared through his veins at the thought of having her lush body in his hands again. He had to down three sifters of brandy before he could think straight.

He retired early, resisting the urge to go down to D deck. She had said such wonderful things to him and he hadn't said how he felt the same. He hadn't felt like this since…he couldn't remember when. Perhaps he'd never experienced such a fire before in his life. He wanted to tell her that he'd never desired anything more than her, that he thought this voyage would be just another trip until she'd stepped into his view.

He took the stairs down to B deck despite the protesting of his leg. He wanted the walk to help cool down his racing thoughts. He passed John Jacob Astor on his way down, giving the man a nod. He remembered when he'd first heard of Astor's remarriage to young Madeline Force. He'd been among those who scoffed at the foolishness, though he cared little that Astor had remarried after a divorce seeing as how he was a divorcee himself. It was the idea that a forty-seven year old man could be happy with a woman twenty-nine years his junior. Now Gold had a newfound understanding of what the man was going through.

Belle was only twenty years old while he was forty-eight. In ten years she'd be thirty while he'd be nearing sixty, would she really want to be shackled to an old man then? He knew she would say she wouldn't care if he pointed that out to her, but the rest of the world would not be shy about that obvious fact. It was why John Jacob and Madeleine had chosen to embark on a lengthy honeymoon to avoid the worst of the gossip.

He didn't know what he was doing. Was this just a shipboard fancy? Was this a desperate attempt to recapture his youth? Or was it far worse than that? Could he actually be falling in love, after years of vowing to never tempt his heart in such an impossible way again?

His suite was on B deck, the starboard side. Molly Brown's room wasn't far from his, but she would have passed it in order to stand outside his room which is what she was doing now. He perhaps should have expected this, but would rather have liked to avoid it. He was half tempted to turn around and pretend he hadn't seen her, but Molly was already meeting his eye and grinning. "You can run, Bobby, but I think I can catch you with that cane."

No, it was no use to play the coward now. Better to take his lops and get on with it. So he put on a fake smile and said, "Mrs. Brown, would you care for a nightcap?"

"As long as it's good and strong."

He ushered her into his cabin. Kent came in from the adjoining room, but paused when he saw Gold wasn't alone. "Apologies, sir, I thought you were ready to retire."

"Not yet it seems," Gold told him, "Please fetch the Talisker malt." He looked over at Mrs. Brown. "How do you like your scotch?"

"Neat," Mrs. Brown said, "I may be a woman, but I can drink with the best of men."

"I have no doubt."

Kent reappeared with the bottle of scotch and two glasses. Gold gave the first glass to Molly and let her take a sip before filling his own glass. "You have excellent taste, Bobby," she remarked, "Jim would drink this by the barrel."

"I'll give him a bottle the next time we meet," Gold said.

Molly took another sip and then set the glass down. "I won't drag it out any longer, what the hell do you think you are doing, Bobby?"

Gold gave her a thin smile. "You certainly don't hold back."

"I'm serious. You're not a stupid man, hell you're probably the smartest man on this boat. So why were you out on the promenade deck necking like a boy with his first crush?"

"Would it help if I admitted that it was never my intention?"

Molly raised one brow. "What were you intending to do with her?"

God, the way she said it made the whole business sound worse. She wasn't entirely wrong either. How far would he have gone if she hadn't caught them? If they hadn't been on the promenade, but somewhere more secluded, would he have stopped? The thought hadn't entered his mind while immersed in her, he hadn't thought much of anything. Good God, he would have done it! He would have compromised an innocent girl!

"It was a lapse in my judgment," he said, but he wasn't sure if he meant it. He couldn't muster any regret for what he'd done. A part of him still longed to find her now and pick up where they left off.

"Look, Gold," Molly said seriously, "I'm not sure what's going on between you two, but you need to be careful. This could get messy awfully quick."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I never thought you would be so critical of Miss French, considering your own beginnings."

"Oh pipe down! This has nothing to do with her lack of money or her idiot father, hell I don't even care that you're twice her age. It's obvious that she cares about you, so the girl has good taste. Not to mention you could have chosen far worse than Belle. I'm talking about the risks you two are taking. If anyone else had found the two of you like that the whole ship would be talking about it by morning. Hell, someone would have wired the news and given the papers more to talk about."

Molly took another swallow of the scotch. "She's a good girl, got some actual character to her than most of the people of our class. If you want to marry the girl, do it. I'll toast you both at the wedding. But be smart about this, Bobby. Sure, they're talking about Astor and his pretty wife, but they'll slam you if you're caught compromising her. She'd suffer far worse than you and you know it."

He couldn't deny it. Everything she said was true. He might receive some derogatory remarks, whispers, and snubs, but Belle would be destroyed. It wasn't fair the way Society gave men a slap on the wrist for indiscretions while women were compared to the whore of Babylon.

"You're right," he said grimly, "I can't very well deny it. I suppose I could avoid her for the rest of the journey." Though a sharp pain in his gut told him it might very well kill him if he did. He wanted to see her again, every day, even after this trip was over.

"Good God, man, I'm not telling you to lock yourself away or pretend you never saw her," Molly said, "Don't be so dramatic, just be careful. It's clear you really like the girl, so why don't you just admit this whole thing is a courtship and get on with it?"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Gold said, "She has a fiancé, or will soon enough."

"Well it's not like that can't be changed," Molly said, taking one last swallow to drain her glass. "You and I aren't young anymore, which means we can't take anything for granted. Think about what you want, Bobby, and don't let any chance slip by if you think you'll regret it."

She put the empty glass on the antique table and stood up. He rose with her as was custom. "I'll see myself out."

"You have a good night, Mrs. Brown."

"You too, Bobby," she said with a smile, "And remember, you only have four days before we reach New York. It'll be here faster than you think."

He nodded dumbly as she exited his cabin. Four days? The trip was half over already, how had it gone by so quickly? He poured himself another glass of scotch and let the liquid slide down his throat in a burst of fire. In Southampton, he'd had everything planned and knew exactly what would happen once he reached New York. One girl with bright blue eyes and an enchanting smile had changed all of that.

* * *

_May 18, 1912_

It had been a long and tedious session with Dr. Hopper and Gold was grateful to put it behind him. Of course another appointment was scheduled for next week, but he would let that bother him later. Now all he wanted to do was go home and enjoy a glass of scotch.

He handed his hat and coat to Dove once he stepped into his home. "Good evening sir," Dove said, "How was your outing?"

"Fine, where is my son?"

"In the gardens with Miss Swan."

"Is she staying for dinner?"

"I believe so."

"Very well," Gold said, "At this rate she may as well change her address to here."

Dove smiled. "Mr. Neal seems very fond of her."

"Indeed. I'll be in my study if you need me."

"Very good, sir."

He moved through the halls until he reached the well used oak door. Inside was his sanctuary, his lair where he could be alone and make plans for his empire. He got his best work done in there. It was the place in his house where he truly felt at home. He was glad to finally be out of the sickbed and getting back to work.

There were several contracts out on his desk that Bae and his other associates had drawn up. Bae was a bit forgiving on some of the stipulations, but his son had always been of a softer sort. Everyone liked and respected Bae, but everyone feared Gold. He considered crossing off the points and making him put harsher stipulations, but chose not to. This was his son's first attempts and manning a project, might as well put some faith in him and let him figure it out on his own. One partner's contract was illegible and full of so many holes that Gold knew he would have to talk to the man on his syntax. The other contracts were all suitable and could be issued immediately.

Gold went to his private bar and selected his favorite, the Talisker malt and poured himself a glass. The smell of the alcohol gave him an odd sensation. He'd had this drink on the _Titanic_. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. That wasn't surprising, Talisker was his favorite and he undoubtedly picked up a bottle while in London.

Still, there was something the scene of the scotch carried, a wisp of a memory he couldn't quite reach. It was the same with the brandy. He knew it should remind him of something but he couldn't think what.

He took the scotch with him and walked over to the window. The sun was only now beginning to sink, turning the sky with brilliant oranges and pinks. The garden was in full bloom, the roses blossoming for the first time of the season. Bae and Emma were walking in the rose garden, enjoying the warm spring weather. He was glad to see his son finally courting a woman. He himself had jumped into marriage far too soon, anxious to get into the business of having a family and making a name for himself. Milah's family had a good name, but was failing financially so she had given him a key into society while he saved her family from ruin.

It hadn't started out bad, he thought she'd been fond of him and he made the mistake of believing that was love. Soon after Bae was born everything changed. He worked more, she complained of being bored and started spending his money left and right. He worked harder to pay for her as well as stay away from her demands. He doubted Jones was the first man she let into her bed, just the first one he caught. In the end they had hated one another, not even able to be civil for their son.

Bae had been smarter. This was his first serious relationship and Gold suspected would be his last. He was a bit envious of the lad, truth be known. He'd tried his own hand at love twice and both times was left with nothing but grief. Well it was too late now to let that bother him. Love simply wasn't in the cards for him.

He watched as Bae kissed Emma sweetly. He was lucky she had no father and that the seven uncles who raised her weren't around or he would be strung on a pole by now. Gold just chuckled at the sight. It was good that he'd found someone.

It was Emma who pressed harder, who wrapped her arms around Bae's neck. A tickle formed in the back of his mind. He shut his eyes and shook his head, but it blossomed despite himself.

Phantom fingers running through his hair, silken lips parting to let him taste, deep blue eyes drinking him in, begging him not to stop. And he couldn't stop, didn't want to. Feelings and desires he thought long gone filled his brain. The rose perfume and sweet smell of her skin heating up his blood. He couldn't get enough…"

"Sir?"

Gold opened his eyes and saw the sun was nearly gone now, the sky a deep violet. He turned around and saw it was Dove standing in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Dinner is ready."

"I'll be right there then."

Once he was gone, Gold drained the rest of his scotch in one swallow. Dear God, now that woman was haunting him in his waking hours. Perhaps he should tell Dr. Hopper about her at their next meeting. Maybe he could figure out why he kept dreaming of a woman he'd never met.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Maurice hadn't been lying when he said he'd spared no expense. The flowers were all fresh and impeccably arranged. Candles lit up the house along with the electric lights to give an atmosphere that bright and lively. A full equipped band played ragtime tunes that contributed to the cheery mood of the party. Everyone talked and laughed, even danced a little. All but Belle who stood alone, staring at the gaiety like it was foreign to her.

She had never cared for balls. She may wear the perfect golden silk evening gown, her hair arranged artfully, and a smile painted on her lips, but she was more often counting the minutes before she could leave. She couldn't do that here with the party being hosted at her house.

Food was set up on one long table, from fresh lobster tails to French canapés. Servers went around with glasses of chilled champagne. Everyone laughed and carried on like everything was rosy. _La vie en rose_, Belle thought. Well, her life certainly wasn't rosy. This was her party to announce her engagement to Gaston. One glance across the room revealed her fiancé carrying on about a fox hunt he did overseas and how he hoped to shoot bison on his next venture out west.

She could see the life set before her. Gaston would sit behind his desk during the days while other men made the decisions for him. She would spend her days ordering servants, managing their children, and drinking the pain of her broken heart and lost dreams. She wanted so much more. What was worse was that she almost had it.

Miss Caroline Beauchamp and her two doting friends cornered as she stood away from the party. She had hated her ever since she was nine and had Caroline had thrown her book into the snow at a Christmas party. Now she was the talk of society, set to marry the wealthiest bachelor in Boston.

"Oh Belle, we were so glad to hear you survived the sinking of the _Titanic_."

Belle could hear the lies slipping off her tongue. She wanted to reach out and pull her hair, tear her pretty face into shreds. None of them cared. None of them knew what it felt like to see the world shatter before their eyes in less then three hours.

"Do tell us about it all," Caroline begged.

"I don't like to talk about it," she muttered and tried to shove past her. Caroline hooked one perfectly manicured talon hand around Belle's arm to keep her there.

"Oh there is no need to be shy," Caroline said in a voice sweeter than sugar, sickeningly so, "We just want to hear how you managed to get off? My sister's maid lost a brother on board, poor thing. We all are grieving."

"No you aren't," Belle hissed at her, "If you were then you would know better than to ask that of me."

She enjoyed their shocked expressions as she pushed them away. She wanted to go up to her room and hide, but there was no escaping it. Just then her father clinked his glass with a fork. The sound of metal striking crystal reminded her of church bells ringing for a funeral.

"Everyone, I'm so glad to have you all here tonight," Moe began with great cheer, "Just last month I was worried I had lost the one thing I truly cherished: my beloved daughter."

Everyone properly "aw'ed" over that and Moe smiled over at her. "Belle, my dear, please come and join me."

Belle put one hand to breast, feeling Robert's ring hidden beneath her dress. She kept her hand over that as she walked with lead feet to her father's side. He put his arm around her shoulder in a gesture of fatherly love. It all felt cold to her, cold and suffocating.

"My Belle is all I have left in this world, which is why I could only give her away to the best of men. I'm proud and sad to say that man has finally come. Gaston Knightly is all I could have asked for a son-in-law and I'm certain he will be a fine husband to my daughter. So I would like to raise my glass in a toast to Belle and Gaston, may they always be happy."

Everyone clapped and cheered. She saw Keith Nottingham slap Gaston on the shoulder in congratulations. The ladies tore her away from her father's side. "What dress will you wear?" "What will your colors be?" "Have you set a date?" "Oh, isn't he handsome? You're so lucky!"

Belle answered none of the questions. She let them all decide for themselves the state of her life and happiness and returned to her corner. She took a glass of champagne from a waiter and drained it one swallow. She took another and emptied it as well.

_Why not get foxed tonight?_ she asked herself, _Robert is dead. My father has shackled me to a bore. I might as well get started on my career as a secret lush. It's what everyone expects of me_.

It was her third glass of champagne that her stomach began to rebel against her. She fled the ballroom, searching for the nearest water closet, but it was too far. She wound up heaving into a potted plant by the kitchens.

One waiter stopped and stooped down as she was hunched over the plant. "Are you all right, miss?"

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," she told him.

He carried on back to the kitchens, the tray of andouillette wafting behind him and sending her stomach into another somersault. _I had too much champagne_, she thought as she leaned back against the wall. She took in several deep breaths, trying to settle the lingering flutters of nausea.

Another waiter came by, this time carrying a tray of éclairs for the dessert table. She remembered how Madeleine Astor ate three in one night on board the _Titanic_. She had always been fond of them, but with the baby coming it had increased her appetite for the sweet pastries. Her husband had only smiled fondly whenever she asked for another. They had been so happy, but now he was gone. At least Madeleine still had her baby.

Belle swallowed back the bitter taste that still lingered in her mouth. _It was the champagne_, she thought again. She drew out Robert's ring from the gold chain she wore it on, holding it in her hand. _Champagne_. But another thought lingered in her mind as her other hand lay over her belly.

* * *

Historical Note: There was a swimming pool onboard the Titanic. It was heated pool, about six feet deep and filled with sea water. She was the second ship to carry a swimming pool, the first being her sister ship, the Olympic.

I remember when I first heard about Turkish baths I thought it was bathtub from Turkey (I was in elementary school and first reading about the Titanic). Well I was wrong, LOL. The Turkish baths were basically a spa. There was a steam room, a hot room, a temperate room, a cooling room, shampooing rooms and electric beds to to apply soothing heat to the body. Unfortunately, this service was only for First Class men, no ladies allowed.

The Titanic also included a fully equipped gym that had rowing machines, stationary bicycles, a mechanical horse, and the famous mechanical camel. Every time I read a book about the Titanic they always mention the mechanical camel so I decided to carry on the tradition.

I'm sure you've noticed that there are lots of ways for passengers to socialize or amuse themselves on the Titanic. That is because ocean liners at the time were not like the cruise ships we have today. There were no shows, conga lines, or festive events. Passengers were expected to entertain themselves which is why the First class had so many perks, they had more options than third class who really could only hand out in the common room.

By the way, if any of you want to ask me questions about the Titanic please don't hesitate. I wouldn't consider myself an expert on the ship, but I do know a lot of what is myth and what is fact so I would be happy to answer any queries about the tragedy.

A/N: So Cora tried to muddle things up, but has failed. Now Belle and Gold are back on track, but check the date. Time is quickly running out.

Next chapter: Belle and Gold have an adventure on the ship that leads to Gold deciding what he wants for his future with her, but an unexpected event occurs that will threaten them and everyone else on board. Back in the present, Gold wonders over the his nightmares and the woman he keeps seeing in his dreams. Belle gets some news that could bring her out of her heartbreak, but ruin her for good.


	5. A Night of Change

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine and I doubt that's going to change.

A/N: I'm glad I got this finished because I think I will be a bit busy for a while to get back to this story. Sorry, but I think you'll like this chapter. It's a big one as it brings us to the ominous day, April 14, 1912. We all know what is coming. I would like to add that all of this came from a dream. I dreamed about Belle being on the _Carpathia_, mourning the death of Gold, but somehow I just knew he was actually alive. I then skipped a head a couple of months and found Belle in the predicament this chapter includes. I woke up before finding out what happened to her and Gold, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I'm glad because I'm really enjoying this story.

**Anonymous Reviews:**

**Belle:** More is here. I hope you enjoy it.

**Guest:** I'm glad I made you care, LOL. You'll find out about Belle and what Moe will do, it may not be what you think.

**belle: **Here is another fix, I hope it helps your withdrawal, LOL.

**KacyMyth:** Aww, thank you so much. I hope you think this chapter is better than the last.

**Guest:** You will get an answer about Belle's possible pregnancy in this chapter. I hope you like it.

**prttykitty7728:** I hope you figure out that time machine, but if not then here is the next chapter.

**NOTE: This chapter does contain an M rated scene.**

* * *

Chapter 5: A Night of Change

_June 3, 1912_

Belle had never had to be so discreet in her life. She'd never really had any secrets before, besides the occasional hidden book her father would destroy if he knew she had. But now she was going to the public phone to set an appointment with a doctor across town. She tried not to think about why she was doing this. She refused to give herself any hope.

So she dressed in a red and black travel suit with a matching hat and called for a taxi. She couldn't use her father's car or the chauffer might tell him where she had gone. The cab was worn and had a terrible odor, but she didn't care. She needed to know.

She paid the driver and stared at the building in front of her. It was made of imposing red brick, angular and strong. A simple sign labeled it as a medical office. She walked inside and saw a few people sitting in chairs as they waited for the doctor. There was a nurse who was at a table with a clipboard. "Can I help you, dear?" she asked in sugary voice.

"Yes," Belle said, "I have an appointment with Dr. Filmore."

"Name please?"

"Mrs. Gold."

The nurse scanned her clipboard and smiled. "Yes, I have you right here. Please take a seat."

Belle thanked her and took up one wooden chair. She normally brought books with her so she would have something to do when she waited. Today she knew that no book in the world could pull her away from her own thoughts. She didn't converse with the others in the room. She stared down at the floor and tried not to think of anything.

She waited ten minutes in silence before the nurse called her false name. "The doctor will see you now."

Belle stood up, clutching her purse tightly in her fingers. She swallowed hard before following the nurse down the hall and to the exam room. "Please wait. The doctor will be here shortly."

More waiting. Didn't they realize how she needed answers now? She had to know if she was wrong. Her life depended on knowing as soon as she could. Plans would have to be made if she was right. And if she was wrong…there would be nothing left for her but misery. She wasn't sure what she should prepare for, both possibilities were frightening, so she did nothing and simply waited.

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Dr. Filmore was in his middle ages with grey hair and a mustache streaked with black. He had very warm blue eyes and he smiled when he entered. The lines on his face crinkled when he smiled. "Hello, Mrs. Gold, isn't it?" Belle nodded, "I'm Dr. Filmore."

"It's nice to meet you," Belle said.

He shook her hand and then took up a chair across from her little exam table. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"I have been sick," Belle told him, "Nausea and some dizziness."

"When does this sickness come? In the mornings?"

"Yes, but sometimes throughout the day."

"Any fatigue?"

"Yes," Belle said, "But I did suffer a tragedy. I haven't been very active of late."

Dr. Filmore nodded and made a note on his clipboard. "Forgive me, Mrs. Gold, but some of these questions will be bit personal. Have you noticed any changes in your breasts?"

Belle frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"Fuller and tender perhaps?"

"I think so, at least with the…nipples." She blushed as she spoke.

"And your monthly cycle?"

"I had a little blood, not as much as usual."

Filmore nodded again. "Mrs. Gold, I don't believe you are sick at all. All of these symptoms are aligned with the early stages of pregnancy."

"So," Belle said, "You believe I am pregnant."

"Is that impossible?" Belle bit her lip and shook her head. "Then yes, Mrs. Gold, that is the most logical conclusion."

The doctor carried on about what she should expect in the upcoming months. Belle knew some already. She was well read and when she'd begun to suspect she'd gone to library to read more on the subject. Unfortunately, most the books were so technical it was hard to fully grasp the subject. Obviously, the medical world was dominated by men even though a woman had for more knowledge of childbearing. So she had come to the doctor to confirm her suspicions.

It was true. She was pregnant.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Gold?" the doctor asked her, "You look a bit pale. Are you ill now?"

"No," Belle said. For once her stomach was not rebelling against her. Her mind was whirling around and around. Her heart was surprisingly calm. "I didn't think…I wasn't sure how to…"

"Yes, it's perfectly understandable to be surprised, but this is all natural, I assure you."

But it wasn't. Yes it was natural for women to have babies, but when they were married. Not when they were engaged to another man and the father was at the bottom of the cold ocean. Belle slid off of the little table. "Thank you, Dr. Filmore."

"If you need any help or have any questions, please do not hesitate to call."

"I appreciate that." She bid him goodbye before walking out of the room.

She didn't look at anyone as she left the medical office. She didn't call a taxi either. Instead she walked down the unfamiliar street, staring straight ahead. She saw no one and nothing. She didn't know how far she had walked, but found herself in a little park. There was no one around, despite the warm day it was. A wooden bench was set next to a small pond. A family of ducks were swimming in water search for food.

Belle took up a seat in the bench and stared at the water. The mother duck kept a sharp eye on her little offspring as they played in the shallow water. They looked happy even though they were alone. It seemed foolish to wonder over the simple life of ducks, but a part of her envied their uncomplicated existence.

Tears fell from her eyes slowly at first and then more. She started sobbing, pressing one hand to her belly as she let it out. Then the cries turned into something else. Laughter.

The tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she laughed at it all. She hugged her middle all the while, stroking it with her gloved fingers. "Thank you," she said to open air, "Oh thank you, God!"

She had been sleeping for so long, ever since the _Carpathia._ She had let her life go on without her say, just sat there and the let world roll on by. Now, with the new life growing in her womb, she was finally awake.

* * *

_April 14, 1912_

Belle woke up smiling on Sunday morning. She giggled to herself as she stared up at the ceiling. It hadn't been a dream. She had kissed Robert on the promenade, a wild, passionate kiss. It was behavior that was absolutely wanton, but oh how wonderful it had all been! She sat up, ready to go out there and find Robert and spend the whole day with him.

A cold feeling washed over Belle, sending her flopping back to her bed. What if he regretted it? She knew Cora had told him about Gaston in order to ruin their budding relationship, though it appeared he had believed her in the end when she told him she did have feelings for him. But maybe now that he knew she was nearly engaged he would break things off. She didn't want that. She knew this was more than just a shipboard romance, she actually had feelings for him.

But the way he looked at her after Molly caught them didn't show any regret. Oh she hoped so. She wanted to spend the rest of the voyage with him. She didn't care about Gaston, Cora, her father, or anyone else. She just wanted to be with Robert.

Belle left her bed and pulled out a white day dress with light blue floral appliqués. The dress was meant to be loose and airy so she didn't use a corset, but took one of the new brassieres instead. Cora despised the new undergarment, but Belle knew Regina had one as well. It was far nice to keep their breasts bound without squeezing the air out of their lungs, not to mention easier to sit.

She looked at herself in the mirror and blushed at the sight. At the curve of her neck was the lovebite Robert had given her the night before. That brought back the flutters in her stomach as she remembered his mouth all over her skin, his hands in her hair, and the way his eyes devoured her with liquid heat. She wanted to let everyone see it, she wasn't ashamed. However, she knew if she did then that evoke a terrible scandal to Robert. Belle had no choice but to take a white scarf and tie it around her neck.

Belle opened the door adjoining her room to Regina's. Her cousin was buttoning up her own day dress without the assistance of their maid. "Where is Fiona?" Belle asked.

"With my mother," Regina told her, "I didn't need her help anyways."

Belle nodded and took a seat on the bed. "How was Daniel?"

"Good." Regina smiled, her eyes glowing, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"He asked me to marry him."

Belle gasped. "Are you serious?"

Regina nodded her head emphatically, a smile lighting up her face. "I said yes! Oh Belle, I do love him so much! I can't believe it! He asked me to marry him!" Regina leapt up to squeeze Belle in hug.

"I'm happy for you, Regina," Belle said, smiling back at her and holding her by her elbows so she could look at her. "But what about your mother? How are you going to get her consent."

Regina sobered a bit. She looked in the direction of her mother's room. "She'll never agree, I know that. But I don't care. I want to be with Daniel, even if we're as poor as church mice, all that matters is being with him."

"Then do it," Belle told her, "I think you are very brave in making this decision, Regina."

"Thank you," Regina said.

The door to Cora's room opened before any more could be said. Cora breezed in dressed in a violet day dress. She smiled at them both as she walked in, but that grin sent a cold chill through Belle's body. "Good morning. A steward brought us some telegrams."

"Anything interesting?" Regina asked.

"Mostly business, but Belle, you received one from your father."

Belle's stomach dropped to her toes. Her hand shook as she reached for the folded piece of paper. She murmured out a thank you before she unfolded it.

_Good news met with Gaston betrothal is set will announce when you return home—Moe French_

"Oh do tell us what is says, dear," Cora's voice was thicker than syrup. No doubt she already read it.

"Father has given his consent to Gaston's suit," Belle said in a near whisper. She felt a hand on her shoulder, probably Regina since it came from her direction, but she didn't look up from the telegram.

"How wonderful," Cora said, "You must be so happy, Belle."

She didn't say anything. There was only one person in the room happy for this news and it wasn't her.

"We can tell everyone at breakfast."

Belle looked up at her in horror. What? Tell the whole ship she was no officially engaged? Tell Robert? The idea made her stomach roll.

"Mother, I think that would be in poor taste," Regina said, "It is Maurice's place to make an announcement, not us."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. But you must start planning Belle. Perhaps the three of us can have lunch at the A La Carte tonight and help you get started."

She would rather eat sawdust with the rats than have lunch with Cora. Regina proved to be a friend again, reminding Cora that Lady Duff Gordon had wanted to lunch with her that day. Belle gave her a grateful smile, but couldn't find words for anything else. She was now engaged to man she didn't love at all. The day that had started out so well had turned to ashes before her. The only bright side was that things couldn't possibly get worse. Still, the thought did nothing to cheer her.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Gold ate breakfast in his stateroom again. He wasn't avoiding Belle, but he needed to think and having her around made that very difficult for him. He was walking a very thin line. Before he had somewhat been a gentlemen, nothing truly depraved or scandalous had occurred. Even their kiss outside of her cabin was fairly harmless. But last night's adventure on the promenade was quite another matter.

A gentleman would stay away from her for the rest of the voyage, even if that meant shutting himself away in his cabin. Unfortunately, Gold wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to be a gentleman. All night he kept thinking about her soft skin, the taste of her sweet lips, and the way she had looked at him with those endless blue eyes. It got his blood racing when he remembered the way she had sighed out his name.

The first class worship service was held in the dining saloon later in the morning, once breakfast was cleared. Gold had never considered himself a deeply religious man, mostly going for appearances and whenever her felt guilty enough to try and cleanse his tarnished soul. He had come within inches of ruining an innocent. He was certainly going to Hell now. Still, he walked into the crowded saloon in the hope that God would forgive him.

It appeared the whole of first class had come for prayer and song. Gold knew better than to believe half of the population in the room were truly devout, this was all done for appearances. He smiled and nodded as he glanced around the room at the faces of the faithful, the unfaithful, and the brainless who simple followed the herd. He did have to endure a cheeky smile from Molly Brown. No doubt she'll make some teasing remarks at dinner tonight.

He had already found a seat when Cora and her entourage walked in. He paid Regina no mind, all of his attention was on Belle. She looked glorious in that white and blue wisp of a dress, truly an angel in the morning light. Her blue eyes scanned the room until they stopped on him. His heart froze. For a moment he wondered if she hated him for nearly seducing her the night before. She should. She was an innocent girl and he was filthy old man wanting something he never deserved.

Then she smiled, a blush touching her cheeks. He smiled back at her. How could he not? She was the most perfect thing he'd ever had the privilege of knowing. He would do anything to make her smile.

One of hands crept up to her throat and that was when he noticed the white scarf tied around her pretty neck. It was an odd choice since it wasn't the fashion. Then he remembered what he'd done in the heat of the moment when all of his blood was boiling out of his brain and headed south. He had marked her. He had put his brand on her like he was some jealous, hot head thinking with his prick. Then again, he was a jealous hot head and he certainly had been thinking with his prick.

First he felt guilt that he'd put her in that position. She'd had to cover up the evidence of their tryst because he hadn't had the decency to stop until Molly had stumbled upon them. But the way she had smiled at him, and how her cheeks warmed as her hand touched the place the scarf hid the blemish…she didn't look ashamed. That filled him with an entirely different emotion: pride.

_He_ had put his mark on her. _He_ had filled her with such passion and longing. Perhaps she was semi-engaged to a younger, more attractive man fit to sire a hundred sons, but she wanted_ him_. That mark meant she had been _his_ first and she always would be.

He sang the songs without paying attention to the hymns. He didn't hear a word Captain Smith and the good father said. He hardly looked at the Bible in his hands. He kept sneaking glances at Belle. More than once he caught her looking back at him.

Once the service was over, Gold caught Belle's eye and nodded towards the door. She smiled back at him and he saw her make some excuse to Cora before breaking away from them. He made his way for the exit for appearance's sake. She caught up with him just outside the saloon.

"Good morning," she said to him.

"Good morning." He could hardly breathe in her presence. This was so unlike him. He had always been a decisive, structured man, but now he couldn't stop himself from turning into mush whenever her pretty blue eyes looked his way.

"I think we should find some place private," he said. The heart of the matter was that they had to talk. Their usual place was the promenade, but he doubted he could keep his composure there after what happened last night. Belle let him lead the way to the reading and writing room. It was the only place private at this hour.

Sure enough the room was empty. Gold couldn't help but wonder if this space was ever fully occupied. Most passengers were in the lounge or at other diversions during the day, and the ladies stayed in the lounge at night while the men were in the smoking room. It was more bother to hm. He was grateful for the space to have private conversations like this.

"Belle, I should apologize for my behavior last night," he began," I put you in a compromising position that nearly led to your ruin. It was wrong of me to do that and I am sorry."

Belle's blue eyes were wide and beseeching. "But I'm the one who started it by bringing you out there. Please don't apologize."

"I must," he said, "I should have acted like a gentleman."

"Does that mean you regret it?" she asked him. Her voice was thin and small, like she was on the verge of tears.

He had to consider that question. Certainly he regretted diving in and nearly besmirching her reputation. But did he regret such glorious passion and the way she's looked at him like he was the only man in the world?

"I should regret it," he said, "But I don't. I'm sorry, Belle, but I don't regret a moment of it."

It was the right answer. She smiled up at him, her eyes wet with joy. "I don't either. It was the best moment of my life."

He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "I don't know why a woman like you would want to be with me. I am not a good man. I'm as black as they come. And yet here you are, giving me a conscience, and a will to be better than the monster I am."

"You're not a monster," she told him. She cupped one clean shaven cheek with her palm. "You have a good heart, Robert, you may not believe it, but I do. I'm glad I met you. I can't imagine how my life would be if I never did."

Gold gently pulled her hand away from his face, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. He bowed his head until his forehead touched hers, squeezing his eyes shut. This couldn't last forever. Soon they would return to New York and they would have to go back to their lives. But he didn't want that. He didn't want to return to the grouchy owner of an enterprise, cutting deals, and living only for more power and his beloved son. She made him better than he was. He wanted to stay on this ship with her, no rules, no pressing matters, just the two of them.

But that was only a fairy tale. It would only last for a few more days. And the longer they stayed in this room, the more likely he was to ruin her completely.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. "We should go. Someone will discover us here if we don't."

Belle nodded but took his hand and laced their fingers together before he could step away. He smiled at their entwined digits. Somehow they would have find a way to be together. This couldn't end at sea, not something as wonderful as this.

Gold asked Belle to lunch with him at the A La Carte after they tried their hand at shuffleboard. She had little experience with the game so he bested her soundly, but did his best to soften his victory. Still, she seemed glad to end the game, even if she was a gracious loser. He had been hoping to have another meal alone with her, but that proved not to be. Colonel Gracie and the Astors had just sat down and urged them to join their group. They had no reason to turn them down other than a desire to be alone, but that was not an appropriate refusal. Belle didn't seem to mind so much. He knew she liked the Astors and Colonel Gracie always had interesting stories to tell.

After lunch, Gracie asked Gold to join him in a game of cards, but he declined. Somehow they had silently agreed to spend every possible minute they could together until the ship docked. Time just kept slipping past them and there was no way to stop it.

"Let's just walk for a while," Belle said once they left the restaurant.

Gold would agree to anything with her, but he made the suggestion of going to the promenade on the boat deck instead of the one on A deck. The A deck promenade was enclosed with glass to keep first class passengers warmer and safe from the spray the ship cast off when in rougher seas, making it the more popular of the two promenades. Gold knew the one on the boat deck would be larger and more private.

He was right, other than a boy and his father playing with a spinning top, the deck was clear of passengers. Crew members did occasionally come by. Belle remarked to one that it was colder than it had been yesterday.

"Yes, miss," the crewman said, "We've received a few warnings of ice in the area."

"Is that dangerous?"

"Oh no, miss, tricky at times, but this ship is built strong. It would take more than a little ice to cause her any harm."

Gold supposed that was true. He knew there were icebergs as big as houses up north, but the captain must have steered them south of anything that large. Any bergs in the area were likely to be small and only a threat to smaller vessels.

"Mr. Ismay showed me an ice warning at breakfast," Belle said, "but he said it wasn't serous either."

"I'm sure it's not. The crewman was right, this is a good, strong ship with an expert captain at her command. Captain Smith has an impeccable reputation as a seaman; he's the best captain in the fleet."

"But if we do run into ice, do you think the captain will stop the ship?" Belle asked. She didn't sound worried, more like hopeful.

He gave her a curious look. "I suppose, but I doubt he would want to delay our journey when we are making excellent time, why?"

"I want him to delay it," Belle admitted, "I want to let this voyage last as long as possible. A part of me wants this ship to never make it to New York."

He smiled a little and took her hand. "That would be a bit inconvenient for everyone else, my dear."

"I don't care. I just want to stay here with you."

He squeezed her hand. "Belle, I know it feels like it, but this doesn't have to end once we reach New York. We can still see each other."

"I don't see how," she said, "I live in Boston, you live in New York. You have your business and your son to keep you busy, and I know my father is going to push me into boring parties and soirees on the arm of Gaston." She blinked up at him with wet blue eyes. "I'm—I'm afraid that you'll forget all about me once this is over."

Gold stopped her, turning around so he could cup her face with his hands. "That could never happen, Belle. I'll forget my name before I'll ever forget you. We will find a way, I promise."

Belle gave him a watery smile and nodded. "All right."

They stopped talking about what would happened when they docked. She asked him to tell her stories of his youth, so he talked about his crossing to America and other misadventures of his child and burgeoning adulthood.

"You and Colonel Gracie all have such interesting stories to tell," she said.

"Tell me something you have done then."

"That's the problem, I haven't done anything," she said, "Women don't get the same opportunities as men. We don't get to have adventures."

"I thought our rendezvous in the smoking room was quite an adventure," he said with a teasing smile.

"It was," she said, "I want to be daring like that again, break the rules and conventions."

"Then we will have to find an adventure," he said. They were on the port side of the ship, close to the bow. Gold could see one crewman exiting the bridge. He leaned against the wall and pulled out a lighter and a cigarette.

"Bloody idiot," he hissed under his breath.

"What is it?"

"It seems the helmsman has left his post to enjoy a smoke. I thought I saw him do that yesterday, it appears it is a habit of his."

"Is it dangerous?" Belle asked.

"Not so much during the day and if he's locked the wheel, but it is against regulations."

Belle looked at the helmsman with his back to them, staring at the endless sea. A wicked smile spread across her face. "Then let's cover his post for him."

"What?" She was already tugging him towards the bridge. "Belle, we can't do that."

"Why not?"

"We're not allowed on the bridge."

"I wasn't allowed in the smoking room."

"That was different. I might have been teased and humiliated had anyone found out about that, but we could get into serious trouble for this."

"That's what makes it exciting." Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like a pixie about to make trouble. "We won't stay long, just for a moment to say that we did."

Belle kept pulling him along and he knew he couldn't stop her. He had thought Cora had been manipulative of him, but Belle was far better at getting him to do what she wanted. All she had to do was smile and he would follow her into hell. If she had a selfish bone in her body he'd be in deep trouble, but he knew she wouldn't take advantage of him.

She tugged him up the stairs, both of them being as silent as they could. The door to the bridge was unlocked and one peek inside proved it was empty. Belle pushed her way inside while he shut the door quietly behind them. She was taking it all in, the massive wheel, the series of telephones the connected to various parts of the ship, as well as the telegrams that could signal the engines if need be. Gold felt the itch to try that out but resisted. It would be wrong, not to mention illegal, to signal the engine room to stop just for a lark.

Belle was fingering the large wheel, her eyes staring out the massive windows that gave them a magnificent view of the bow and the open sea. "It's beautiful," she said.

She was right. The sun was beginning to set, turning the ocean into liquid goal tinged with fire. "I don't see how anyone could get tired of this view."

"Perhaps you should be a sailor then," he teased.

She swatted at his chest, making him chuckle, then took his hand. "It's like it goes on forever, nothing but ocean."

"Just the two of us in the middle of an endless sea," he said, "I like the sound of that."

"Hey!" an indignant voice shouted, "You can't be up here!"

They swiveled their heads to see the lazy helmsman standing in the door, glaring at them in evident fury. For a moment they just stared at each other, then Belle shouted "Run!"

She pulled his hand as she sprinted for the starboard side exit. He was hot on her heels, adrenaline making the pain in his leg meaningless.

They pushed past another crewmember, while the helmsman continue to shout after them. Gold wasn't sure if they were being followed, but he didn't want to take the chance to find out.

They ran down the stairs, back to A deck, making a beeline for the elevators. Not Gold was certain he could hear someone else chasing after them. "Take us down," he barked at the lift operator, "E deck."

The operator gave him a dumb nod and put the lift into motion. The elevator slowly went down, down, down until it finally stopped. "E—." they didn't wait for the operator to finish.

Belle was still holding his hand while they ran to another set of stairs, descending further down to F deck. "Come on," he said, taking the lead. Gold brought them down a long corridor until he found what he was looking for: the swimming pool.

It was a good place to hide. Dinner would be called soon so there wasn't anyone inside taking a late swim. However, the door was still unlocked in case any passengers wanted to use it after dinner, doubtful as that was. Gold shut the door behind him, bracing with both of his palms flat against it as he gasped in air.

Belle was panting, but laughter kept bubbled up from her lips. He felt his own mirth rumbling from his chest. Good God, what was trip that was! The look on the helmsman's face as well as the dumbfounded crewman wouldn't be forgotten. He wondered how the man would explain the whole thing without ousting himself for being lazy on the job

"Well," he said as he turned around to face Belle, still laughing, "You wanted an adventure."

"That was wonderful fun," she agreed.

"I probably could have paid him for his silence," he said.

"It was more exciting this way." He couldn't disagree with that, though his leg was likely to kill him in the morning.

"This is nice," Belle said as she looked around the room.

"My private pool at home is much nicer," he said, "But I'm impressed too."

"I wish I had brought my suit," Belle told him, "But I didn't think I'd need it since Uncle Theodore doesn't have a pool."

She started taking off her shoes and her stockings. He eyed her bare feet. "Going for a dip now?"

She giggled. "No, just testing the water." She sat down on the edge of the pool, hiking her skirts up so they wouldn't get wet, then let her feet slide into the water. Gold felt all of the blood drain out of his brain at the sight of her bare calves.

"It's warm," she said, "It feels really good, almost like bath water."

She was going to kill him. He actually had to bite back his own groan as the image of her naked in a slipper tub full of bubbles appeared in his mind. He could imagine her velvet skin glistening in the candlelight, the bubbles covering her arms, tickling her breasts—he was sweating at the thought.

"I think our pursuers have given up by now," he said, walking over to where she sat. "We should return up top."

"All right," she said with a little sigh.

He offered her a hand to help her up, but then something happened neither of them anticipated. Belle's lovely skirt was around her knees, spread out on the edge of the pool. When she tried to stand, her wet foot found purchase on the silk. The fabric instantly became as slippery as ice. Her foot slid away and neither had a chance of finding their balance. He only had a moment too realize he was falling before he hit the water.

He hadn't had anytime to take a breath so he quickly kicked his way back to the surface. Belle was sputtering close beside him. Her hair had tumbled out of its pins and her dress floated around like angel wings. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

Belle nodded. "And you?"

"Yes." His feet found the shallow floor of the pool, giving him a place to stand. The water still came up to his shoulders. He'd have to find his cane later. "Well, dearie, looks like your desire to go swimming has come true."

"I'm sorry," she said, but he could see a grin curling her lips.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this."

"Well I didn't."

"I'm not so certain," he teased, "a devilish minx like you. I think you were waiting to catch me by surprise. I'll have to plan my revenge accordingly."

"Oh you beast!" she cried before splashing a wave of water at him. It was a half hearted attempt that barely sprinkled him. However, his retaliation hit her full in the face, splashing water into her mouth. She spat out the salty water, giving him a glare as he continued to laugh.

"A gentleman wouldn't splash a lady," she said.

"And a lady wouldn't toss a gentleman into a pool. I suppose both of us are ruffians then."

She splashed him again, this time with better aim. He hurled more water at her until they were in a full out war, laughing the whole while.

Finally he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling him towards him to still her next assault. She fought him back, her free hand scrambling his wet hair until it was in a tangle. He grabbed her other hand and pinned her to the side of the pool.

The game ended immediately.

They both stopped laughing and stared at one another. Her lips were parted as she gasped in air. Her blue eyes were wide and darkening the longer he looked at her. Wet tendrils of her hair clung to her cheeks. Somewhere she'd lost her white scarf so her throat was bare. He could see the mark he'd give her, a dark red-purple spot on her milky skin. It was his undoing.

He captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Belle kissed him back, her tongue exploring the roof of his mouth until she found a spot that made him moan. He nibbled at her bottom lip, then gave it a teasing lick. She struggled in his grip, arching her back so she could press closer to him. He didn't let her go, not yet.

He trailed kisses up her jaw to her ear. Where he took the lobe between his teeth and slowly let it slide free. He felt her shiver. She tried to bite back her moan, but he could feel it with her chest pressed to his.

Gold finally released her wrists so he could grab her wrist and lift her up. Belle wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her core against his groin. He growled in her ear, attacking her lips again, rolling his hips into hers. Belle threaded her fingers into his hair, her nails scraping deliciously against his scalp. He kissed her chin, the hollow of her throat, licked the lovely bruise on her neck before sucking at the skin of her breasts, leaving tiny red marks that would fade soon. Her skin was salty from the water, mingling with her own taste into a combination that drove him mad with lust.

He wanted to strip her bare, tear that dress away like tissue, and feast on every inch of her. He could feel her ragged breath tickling his hairline, her arms wound around his neck. He could do it. He wanted to.

Somehow, with a great deal of reluctance and chivalry he didn't know he had, Gold found the strength to pull away from her, kissing her softly one last time. "We should get back," he said.

Belle tightened her grip around his waist, making him hitch his breath. "I don't want to go back."

"We'll catch cold," he told her.

"I don't want to leave you," she whispered.

Gold shut his eyes, trying to find some bit of fortitude to resist her. If she stayed then he was more than likely going to ruin her. But the way she clung to him, her eyes begging with him to let her stay…how could anyone resist such eyes?

He kissed her forehead and forced her to untangle her legs, but he kept a hold of her hand. "Come on, we should get out of these wet clothes." There would be not fighting it now.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

They did their best to look as dignified as possible, but that was unattainable sopping wet. So they wound up biting holes in their tongues to keep from laughing as they caught the elevator from E deck to avoid being seen by the whole ship. The elevator operator gave them an odd look but knew better than to say anything. "What deck, sir?"

"B deck," Gold answered. Belle felt a tingle in her belly at his words. He wasn't taking her back to her cabin, but to his. It was wrong, she should feel ashamed, but she couldn't. She just wanted to be with him in every way she could. This was her adventure and she would decide what was wrong and what was right. This was right.

Her heart picked up speed when he took her hand and led her to his suite. It was a lovely room designed in a Regency style with a large, four poster bed with a burgundy canopy, a mahogany sideboard, and chaise lounge upholstered with green velvet. There was a black oriental style dressing screen in one corner as well as a rosewood and brass shaving table. There were papers, pens and a picture of a young boy on a roll top desk. She guessed the boy was his son, though she knew he was much older now.

Gold let out a nervous cough and then said, "I'll, uh, I'll get you something dry to change into." Yes, that was right, she was still wet from their unplanned swim.

He walked over to another door and revealed a small walk-in closet. Her own cabin had a splendid wardrobe, but this was much larger. She watched him disappear inside before taking a peek at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from her slight nerves. Her dress was clinging to her every curve and not at all bothering to conceal the brassiere she wore beneath it. Perhaps she should have gone with a corset, though that would have been problematic in the swimming pool.

The door on the other side opened suddenly, making Belle gasp. Another man entered with salt and pepper hair and a grey moustache. He stared at her queerly, like she was some oddly colored creature rather than a wet woman. "Good evening, miss," he said after he managed to gain his composure, "but I believe you have the wrong room."

Belle blushed hotly, but was saved from any answer when Gold appeared from the closet. "Kent, I believe you've never met Miss Isabelle French."

"No, sir, I have not." Kent gave her a slight bow. "My apologies, Miss French, I was unaware that you are a guest of Mr. Gold."

"We had a slight accident. I was just finding us something dry to change into."

"Of course, sir. Will you be needing any assistance?"

"No, you may go out on deck if you like. I don't believe I'll be needing you currently."

"Very good, sir."

Gold nodded once. "I expect you won't tell anyone about this."

"Of course not, sir."

"Thank you, Kent. You may go."

"Have a good evening, sir." He bowed again to them both and then swiftly departed from the room.

Belle stared down at her soggy shoes. The interruption made it acutely aware of where this could lead. It wasn't enough to change her mind, but it did remind her how this night could change everything. It was a lot to admit to and it made her even more nervous.

"Uh, here," Gold said and pressed a dark blue silk smoking jacket into her hands, "You can wear this if you like."

Belle gave him a jerky nod. "Thank you," she squeaked out before dashing behind the dressing screen. She threw the jacket over the screen. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her dress, unable to loose them because her hands shook so much. Belle stopped, shut her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Be calm," she whispered to herself, "You want this. You want him."

Saying it out loud soothed her nerves and she managed to undress without any difficulty. She took off her brassiere, but left her chemise and drawers. She wasn't so bold as to be completely naked under his robe.

When she left the dressing screen she found he'd changed into a similar smoking jacket, but this one was burgundy with a black velvet trim. He had on black trousers beneath it and his feet were bare. He stood by the sideboard where a few bottles of liquor sat. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes," Belle said. He turned when he heard her reply, a shy smile on his lips. His eyes trailed over her slowly, gaining a bit more heat that made her shiver. "What do you have?"

"Scotch, brandy, or port."

"Port please." She combed her fingers through her damp hair to get out the tangles while he poured the drinks. He handed her a glass of the sweet red wine, while he allotted himself a glass of brandy.

Belle sipped at the port, tasting how rich and fine it was on her tongue. She took her glass with her as she explored his room, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. She toyed with the shaving instruments laid out on the shaving table, careful not to prick her finger on the razor. She moved on to the desk, sipping at her port as she leafed through the papers. Most of them were business with little interest to her. One was a telegram from New York that he received yesterday. _Cancelled Boston meeting want you to meet Emma see you when you dock stay safe—Neal._

"Neal? Is that your son? I thought you called him Bae?" she asked.

"It's what I called him when he was young," Gold said, "His name is Bailey Neal Gold, but the boys at school teased him so he goes by his middle name now."

"Oh, well I like the name Bae too," Belle said with smile, fingering the picture of the boy. The telegraph was warm, suggesting a loving relationship. Robert had told her they had been distant in the past, but one couldn't tell from the correspondence.

"I got a telegram from my father this morning," Belle said softly.

"Oh?" He tried to sound disinterested, but even she could hear the slight pain in his voice.

She nodded once. "He's given Gaston his consent. He wants us to make an official announcement when I get home."

"I—I see," he said

Belle shook her head, tears coming on her too fast and blurring her vision. "It's not fair. I don't get any say in the matter and it's my life he's talking about. I don't want to marry Gaston. I don't want to be just another one of his trophies, someone to host his parties, and bear his sons. I want to make my own decisions.

She didn't know when she started to sob, but suddenly she was burying her face into Robert's chest and letting him rub at her back. "Belle," he whispered her name gently, "Belle, it's all right."

"No, it's not," she said into his chest, "Maybe before I met you I could have endured it, but now…"

Gold cupped her face in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "Now? What is it?"

"I can't do it," she whispered, "I can't marry him, not when I'm in love with you."

There, she had finally said it even if she only realized it herself. She had fallen in love with Robert Gold, quite possibly from the moment they met. She could never marry Gaston or any man, not when her heart belonged to Robert.

There was a heart stopping moment where just stared at her, still holding her face. Then he smiled, that sweet, loving smile she was certain he only gave to the people he held closest to him. "Oh, sweetheart," he whispered, "I love you too."

More tears blinded her, but these were of joy. He loved her! This wasn't just some shipboard romance, a flight of fancy, this was love. Real, true, and perfect love.

The kiss that followed was gentle and soft. It wasn't like the raw passion back on the promenade deck, or the flirty teasing in the swimming pool. This was a kiss born of true love, the kind that could break curses, topple mountains, cure death, and overcome any threat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair to press herself as close to him as possible. This was the missing piece to her soul, she'd found her adventure at last in him.

The kisses grew deeper, turning into soulful reminders of what they had just confessed. She could feel the spark of desire burning brighter in her belly. He kissed her jaw, behind her ear, her neck, every bit of skin he could find. It wasn't enough, she needed more.

Belle slipped her hand through the folds of his robe, finding bare skin beneath. She trailed her fingers down until she reached the belt of the robe and began tugging at the knot. Robert reached down and took her hands.

"Belle, we don't have to do this," he said gently, "I wasn't expecting…it's all right if we…"

She reached up to press one finger to his lips. "I want to," she said, "I want _you_," she said firmly. Then pressed her mouth back to his. He didn't stop her when she untied the belt of his robe and pushed the folds aside to bare his chest. She had never seen a man unclothed before, but she liked what she saw. Perhaps he wasn't thickly muscled or sculpted, but he had a wiry strength to him that told her he wasn't to be toyed with. She traced the lines of his pectorals before finding her boldness and lightly touching one nipple. She felt him tense and a strangled sound came from his throat.

She looked up into his face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said a little breathless, "do it again."

Belle circled the nipple again with her finger, this time a little firmer, before pinching the nipple lightly between her finger and her thumb. The growl he let out was all the warning she had before he pulled her close, almost lifting her off the ground, and giving her a deep, bruising kiss.

His hands yanked her robe off her shoulders while his lips followed the lines of her chemise. He kissed her shoulders, the tops of her breasts, while his hands roamed her body and lingered in the spots that made her shiver. But it was Belle whose fingers found the laces of her chemise and untied them. He swallowed hard as he watched her slip the straps off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She was completely bare from the waist up. She could feel a blush blooming on her chest, but she wouldn't let her modesty stop her from slipping her drawers down and kicking them away. Now she was completely naked and out of any ideas on what to do next. She had to place her trust entirely in him.

Robert stared at her for a long time, idling more on her breasts. She tried to keep her arms at her sides, but couldn't help but put both hands over the thatch of curls between her thighs. He didn't force her hands aside. Instead, he slipped one hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up so he could kiss her again. "God you're beautiful," he whispered against her lips.

He kept kissing her while pulling her towards the large bed, gently pushing her down until she lay on the mattress. Someone had turned down the bed earlier so she lay on the cool sheets instead of the thick comforter. He lay down next to her, propped up so he could stare into her eyes. "Are you scared?" he asked her.

"No," she said. She was a little nervous, but not scared.

He smiled down at her and kissed her again. His hand traced the column of her neck, the smooth line of her collar bone, then the valley between her breasts. She could feel the heat coiling in her belly all the while he touched her. Then when he cupped one of her breasts in his hand, she arched into his touch with a gasp. He let out a pleased little chuckle and traced the peaked nipple with his fingertips, earning a whimper from her.

Belle saw the devilish gleam in his eye before he bent down and took the nipple into his mouth. She let out a moan, her hands burying in his hair to keep him there. She felt him laugh against her breast and gave the pebbled tip a little nip with his teeth. God, there was so much heat. She could feel it racing through her body, spiraling in her belly and spreading out to that place between her thighs. Was there moisture gathering there as well?

He laved the other nipple with his tongue, trailing hot kisses all over the slope of her breast until she sobbed out his name. Then he bit down gently on the nipple until she arched up against him again.

Belle could feel something brushing up against her thigh through his trousers. It took a moment for her mind to piece together the only explanation of what it could be. So while he kissed his way back up her neck, she let one hand travel down, down until she cupped him through his trousers. Robert let out a long hiss in her ear and then pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "You're going to kill me, love," he said.

A giggle bubbled up from her chest that he smothered with a kiss. "I want to see you," she said once he broke the kiss, "All of you."

She saw one muscle in his cheek tick, but then he nodded. He stood up from the bed and removed the trousers and his linen drawers all at once, leaving him just as naked as her. She couldn't help but stare at the hard flesh jutting out from between his legs. She remembered reading a book she was forbidden to even glance at when she was younger. She had read about a third of it before her aunt discovered it and threw it out. The pages had been filled about lovemaking, putting it in naughty terms she was never to repeat. She remembered now the word for that part, his cock, it was called. She felt the color rise her cheeks, but knew it was a fitting term. She reached out to touch his bare cock, but he took her hand instead and kissed her fingers. "If you touch me there, sweetheart, I don't think I would last."

She didn't quite understand what he was saying, but decided his experience counted far more than her curiosity. She lay back on the pillows while he propped himself above her and kissed her again. She rubbed her hands up and down his back, enjoying the way the muscles bunched in places where he was sensitive. He moved his kissed down her neck, between her breasts and down to her belly. She felt fluttery inside as he sucked and nipped her there, dipping his tongue into her navel in a way that had her squirming. He kept going lower and lower until he was kneeling between her thighs, right above that patch of curls.

He looked at her face as he slipped one finger between her folds. She must have blushed because he gave her a gentle smile. Then his thumb brushed against some spot that had her gasping. It was a rush of fire that spurted through her veins. He did it again and again until she arched towards him. Then he slid one finger into her passage. It was a bit odd, but not unpleasant. "God, you're tight," he said but he didn't appear upset by that, more like pleased. His thumb touched that little nub again and she felt her muscles clench around his finger. He slipped another inside, this time she tensed a bit. Her body felt stretched down there, still no pain, but not entirely comfortable. But that was all forgotten when he began to move his fingers. His thumb kept hitting that little nub and his fingers found something else inside of her, a place she didn't know existed. Liquid heat was pooling in her belly. She was feeling so tight there and every motion made it get tighter and tighter.

"You're so wet, Belle," he crooned to her, "So wet and so tight. I want to taste you. May I taste you?"

She wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but she was feeling so much heat and fire that she couldn't have denied him anything. She didn't expect him to remove his fingers, letting out a whine when she was bereft of his touch. She did feel his warm breath as he chuckled against her thigh. Then his fingers were there, spreading the lips of her sex before he pressed his mouth there. She nearly jumped at the sensation, the wet heat that came from his mouth. Then his tongue was drinking her down, slipping into her folds and swirling over that nub of flesh that pulse with her heart. The coil in her belly snapped and she was falling, falling, falling and wave after wave of heat rushed through her veins. She screamed and clutched at his hair, begging him to stop and not stop all at once.

When it finally faded he was looming above her once again. She was breathless, her chest heaving. She wasn't entirely certain what that was, but oh how she wanted to feel that way again. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his tongue, moaning at the sensation. "I think you're ready," he said, "But I'll go slow, I promise."

He reached down with one hand to align his cock with her entrance. She still felt cloudy from that rush of feeling, but she understood what was about to happen. She felt the thick head of his cock stretch her walls. He inched a bit further, then a little more. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. Then he moved harder and she tensed at the sudden pain. It was sharp and fierce, causing her to dig her fingernails into his shoulders.

"Shh," he whispered into her ear, "It's okay. It's okay." He peppered her face with kisses as he kept going. It still hurt but she tried to force herself to relax. Finally he was all the way inside.

Her walls were still stretching, tense and unmoving. He kept kissing her, turning her mind away from the pain and back to his adoring mouth and love. Slowly, she felt her body relax to his intrusion. Her muscles released and the pain receded. "Good, sweetheart," he said, "very good."

"Is that it?" she asked. It was no longer painful, but it wasn't the moving experience she thought it would be.

Robert let out a chuff of laughter into her neck. "Oh my darling, no. I'm not finished with you just yet."

She felt him move his hips back so his cock almost left her, then he thrust back in. There was more heat, more fire. She let out a gasp and clutched him even closer. He moved again and again. Soon she was thrusting her own hips, trying to take him deeper so she could feel even more heat. He took her thighs so she could wrap her legs around her waist, pounding into her harder and harder. She felt herself reach that precipice again and then spiral back down into the beautiful fall, harder than it was before. She was still reeling from the pleasure when she felt the hot spurts of his release. He let out a fierce growl as he rode out his own wave in a few more final thrusts.

He fell over her, their chests moving together as they both gasped for air. She could feel his breath gusting into the crook of her neck. She ran her hands down his back. Their bodies were both slick from sweat.

Finally, he rolled over and pulled her over his chest. He buried one hand into her curls to drag her mouth up to his in a messy, tired kiss. Belle managed to say between pants, "I didn't know it would be like that."

Robert let out a chuckle, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Oh yes, Belle, it can. But it's even more because we love each other."

Belle smiled at that and kissed him again. Yes, it was more. So much more. She laid her head down on his chest and listened to drumming of his heart. She wanted to stay there in his arms forever, feeling the way his fingers traced along her spine. This wasn't the end of a day, but the beginning of their future.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

It was inching closer to midnight, but Gold was still awake. Belle was asleep, her head resting on his chest. He could feel her soft, even breaths ghosting across his skin. She had fallen asleep soon after they had finished making love, tired out from the experience. It was her first time so it wasn't unexpected. He felt more than a little spent himself, but his mind wouldn't stop racing to let him join her in slumber.

He'd done exactly what Molly had warned him not to do. He'd ruined her, completely. If anyone discovered what they'd done tonight she would never be welcomed into Society ever again. He wasn't sure if Belle was fully aware of that possibility. He could rouse her, have her dress, and return her to her cabin, never to speak of this again. But that idea of doing that cleaved his heart in two.

He couldn't act like this night never happened. He had meant what he said before; he loved her. He loved her more than he'd ever loved any woman. The only person who could match it was his son. This was different from the youthful ardor he'd felt for Milah, even more from the fiery lust he'd experienced for Cora. This was stronger, deeper, and far more terrifying.

In three days they would reach New York. In three days she was supposed to return to her father and now to her fiancé. He couldn't let that happen. It would kill him if he let her go. There was only one option he had.

He had to marry her.

He had never thought he would marry again. He had briefly considered the idea during his dalliance with Cora, but sobered against the thought soon enough once she'd cast him aside and shown her true colors. Marriage had been hell with Milah, the only bright spot being Bae. His ex-wife had never been satisfied with anything he could give her: money, jewels, houses, nothing was ever enough. Still, he'd tried to make her happy, but discovered how impossible that was when he caught her in bed with that scoundrel, Jones. He didn't realize how relieved he was to be rid of her until after the divorce was final, though the sting of being a cuckold never really faded.

But Belle was different. She didn't care about money or anything material. She was far happier in a library than a ballroom. He could be enough for her. He could already see her at his home, lost inside a book in his parlor. She belonged there, with him.

It was decided. He would ask her first thing in the morning. He may not have a ring or her father's consent, but none of that mattered. It was her life and her decision. Besides, he doubted Moe French would care who his daughter married as long as he was rich. Well, he was that.

Belle's skin was like silk beneath his fingers. He could smell the soft floral scent of her hair when he kissed the top of her head. She let out a mumble in her sleep and wrapped herself even tighter around him. What was this odd, calming warmth he felt deep in his chest? Could it be…happiness? Yes, he was happy. Here with his future wife wrapped up in his arms, he was finally happy.

He shut his eyes at last with a sigh, ready to sleep himself. This was good. This was right. Tomorrow he'd wire Bae with the news. No, perhaps he'd wait and enjoy the shocked expression on his son's face. Either way, he knew Bae would love her. This was a good night and tomorrow would be even better.

The ship made a sudden jostle, like something had tugged it sharply for a second. It startled him, but Belle only let out a brief moan in her sleep. Then a horrible screech like iron nails carving into glass slowly got louder and louder. Belle lifted her head off of his chest just as the tremors began. The bottles of liquor on the table quivered and nearly tipped over. The whole ship was shaking as if the ocean was boiling beneath it.

"What's going on?" she asked but he had no answer for her.

The screech got louder and he realized something was actually scraping against the side of the ship. He leapt from the bed and raced to the porthole. Belle came up beside him, both of them feeling the vibrations beneath their feet. A large dark mass covered his porthole, but it wasn't a smooth, manmade structure. This was something uneven, but solid. The light reflected off of it, showing it was white and chunky. The ship continued to scuff against it until finally there was some slight distance between it. Gold opened the porthole and stuck his head out to get a better view.

"What was that?" Belle asked.

The night made it difficult to see, but the ship wasn't so far past it that he couldn't determine what it was. It was a giant block of ice, floating along the ocean. "It was an iceberg," he told her. He remembered hearing the crew talk about ice in the area. Apparently they'd found one.

* * *

_June 3, 1912_

"You seem tired, Robert," Dr. Hopper began with after their usual pleasantries were finished, "Have you been sleeping?"

Gold arched one brow at him. "Is that your attempt at subtlety?"

Hopper gave a sheepish laugh. "I try not to pry, but I am being truthful, you do seem a bit worn. May I ask if you are sleeping well?"

"No, I haven't been sleeping well at all. Not since I returned to New York."

Hopper nodded. "Do you often have trouble sleeping?"

"If I have a lot of work to do, but Bae has kept curbing my workload. He thinks I need to recover more," Gold said with some annoyance. He did love his son dearly and knew he was only trying to help, he did not want to feel weak. The sooner he could return to his normal life the better. Maybe then the nightmares would stop.

"So it obviously isn't work that is disturbing your sleep. Have you been experiencing anything abnormal?"

"Nightmares," he admitted.

Hopper nodded and made a note in his pad. It was very annoying because it always made Gold wonder what he was writing about. Was he making judgments about his mental health? Writing what he'd said? Making a grocery list? It was a constant irritation.

"Were they common before the sinking?"

"No."

"Do they involve the ship?"

"Sometimes," Gold said, "Usually its drowning or icy cold. I'm always out of reach of her and I can't get free. I wake up just when I know I'm about to die."

"Yes that is what I expected," Hopper said as he made more notes. "What was that you said about a woman? You said you are out of reach of _her_? Who are you talking about?"

"I don't know," he said, "She's just a woman I see in my dreams."

"You said you couldn't reach her, why are you trying to get to her?"

"I don't know, it's just a dream," Gold snapped.

"It's never _just_ a dream," Dr. Hopper said calmly, "Especially not nightmares associated with a trauma. We dream of what we know, what we want, and what we fear. If you are dreaming of a woman you must have known her."

"Well I don't," he said. But when it rolled off his tongue he knew it was a lie. No, not a lie, just not true. He _did_ know her. Somehow, he just didn't know how he did.

"Like I said, we dream of what we know. You do know her, Robert, perhaps you only saw her once, but your mind has remembered her."

"So you're saying I'm dreaming of a stranger?"

"It could be. How often does she appear in your dreams?"

"All of them."

"All?" Hopper stared at him in evident surprise.

"Yes."

Hopper made some more notes. "And what do you think she is to you?"

"An angel," he said instantly.

"An angel," he reiterated, "Why that?"

"She's…good."

"And you're not?"

"I don't have any illusions about who I am," Gold told him, "I don't know who she is, but I know she is far better than me."

"Perhaps she represents redemption or hope," Dr. Hopper said, "You said you are always reaching out to her. You must have been fighting to survive that night, maybe she is your second chance."

"Well, seeing as how I don't remember anything about that night, I don't see how much good that will do me," Gold said. He opened his pocket watch before remembering it was broken. He had yet to get it fixed so it was still frozen at 2:08. He supposed that was when he went into the water. Just thinking about it sent chills running through him.

"You think yourself as a bad person," Dr. Hopper said, "That indicates that you want to be better. Perhaps she represents your desire to do better. The dreams could be about your fear of dying before changing your life for the better."

Gold sighed, putting his head into his hand. "Maybe," he admitted quietly, "But I feel…I don't know, I think she's important to me."

"Perhaps she's someone you met on the ship," Hopper said.

"So why would I forget everything else, but see her in my dreams?"

"As you said, she's important to you," Hopper said.

Gold frowned at that. "No woman has ever been that important to me. Only my son."

"The only way to find out is to tap into these memories."

Gold stared at the frozen hands of his pocket watch. It told him when he nearly died, but didn't say how he survived or why he did. The dreams were glimpses into how horrible the whole ordeal was and they weren't even real. What would he remember? How frightening were those memories?

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that," he confessed, shame creeping into his voice.

Hopper gave him a patient smile. "It's all right, Robert. You'll get there."

Gold wasn't so certain.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Belle had been reluctant to return home. That place was depressing, a cage full of social expectations and memories of a family that never really existed. Her happier times of her childhood were in Pennsylvania with her Aunt Lydia and not her coming of age under her father's roof. She wanted to hole onto her joy as long as she could.

Pregnant. How wonderful! She knew she should be frightened. She was not married, Robert was dead, and she had no money to her name. But she didn't care. She was carrying the child of the man she loved. That could only be a good thing.

She couldn't hide forever. It was with a heavy heart that she finally returned home. She had hoped that her father would be out trying vainly to find some money so they could keep up appearances. But when she passed his study he called out her name.

Belle sighed before stepping into her father's sanctuary. She had snuck into this room as a child, determined to find out what was so special about this place. She grew to hate it because she was only every called in there whenever her father was crossed wit her about something. She knew that still hadn't changed.

"What have you been?" he demanded, "You've been out since this morning?"

"I had an appointment," Belle said.

"Gaston came by wanting to take you on a drive. He was very disappointed to find you gone."

_What a relief,_ Belle thought. "I'm sure Gaston will recover."

"You'll make it up to him tomorrow," Moe told her, "Now, we've settled on September 17th for the wedding. That is a suitable amount of time for everyone to make arrangements without it seeming too sudden. I've set up a fitting with Madame Beauchamp for your gown on Saturday. You could alter your mother's gown if you wish, it will be cheaper that way as well as impress our guests."

Belle rolled her eyes at him. Of course he would think that. Money and appearances were all that mattered to him, not family, love, or even joy. His happiness could only be bought.

"Have you considered your colors?"

"No," she said. She never thought about her wedding. None of it mattered now.

"Belle, you have to think about these things. The wedding will be here before you know it."

"No it won't," Belle said, "I'm not marrying Gaston."

Her father let out a snort. "I don't have time for these games. Now go change for dinner."

"I'm serious, father, I will not marry him."

Now Moe looked at her, finally realizing she wasn't making a joke. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, "You _will_ marry him. You gave him your word."

"No, _you_ gave him your word," Belle said, "I had no say in the matter. You may marry him then if you are so desperate for his money."

Her father's face turned a bright crimson. "What has gotten into you?"

"I've changed," Belle said, "A lot has changed since I left Europe."

"It has not! You're just suffering from a weak mind from your terrible ordeal. I'll call a doctor and he'll help you recover your wits."

"I don't need to see a doctor," Belle told him, "I've just come from one."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm pregnant." How wonderful to say it out loud! Pregnant! It set her free from this horrid engagement. It changed everything. She couldn't let the sorrow crush her anymore. She had to live and look to the future for the sake of Robert's child.

Moe paled at her announcement. "What? That—that's impossible."

"It's true."

"You can't be!"

"I am," Belle said.

"But surely Gaston wouldn't—."

"No," she agreed, "He's not the father."

The blood rushed back to her father's face. "What?" he shouted again, "Then who? Who's bastard are you carrying?"

"Robert Gold," Belle said, "I met him on the _Titanic_ and we fell in love."

"Don't lie to me, girl, tell me the truth!"

"I am."

"Then why hasn't he come for you?" he challenged.

"He died in the sinking."

Moe gave her a look of disgust as he shook his head at her. "That is the best you could do? You really expect me to believe Robert Gold is in love with you? I never thought I would raise a liar and a harlot."

"You didn't raise me, Aunt Lydia did."

"Yes, that was clearly a mistake. I should have shipped you to your Uncle Theodore years ago." Moe put his hands flat on his desk and pressed his lips into a thin line. "I will find a doctor," he said.

"I already went to one," Belle reminded him.

"No, you slut," he hissed, "This doctor will purge that thing out of you."

All of the blood drained from Belle's face. She put her hands over her still flat stomach. "What? No! I won't!"

"You will!" Moe snapped, "You will get rid of that bastard and you will marry Gaston as planned!"

"I will not! I am not marrying Gaston and I will have Robert's baby!"

"You will do as I say and that is final!" he hissed. He looked at her like she was a stranger instead of the daughter he'd known since birth.

"Go to your room." He pointed to the door behind her. "I can't bear to look at you right now."

Belle was glad to obey. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but she didn't know why. She had known he would take the news badly. That didn't make it hurt any less. She forced the tears back down. She had cried enough for the past weeks. It was time to move forward. She had to now.

She went into action immediately. She found her carpet bag and stuffed it with her plainer dresses, some jewelry, a few books, what little money she could find, and the blue shawl Robert had given her. His ring was still safely on the chain around her neck.

No one sent her up a tray, but she didn't care. She sat alone in her room and waited. She didn't bother to read knowing she wouldn't be able to focus on the words. Her father always went to bed at ten. She waited another hour just to be certain. Belle dressed in her coat and hat, took her bag, and carefully snuck down the stairs. She unlocked the front door and went into the cool night air. She stopped at the end of the drive to look back at the house. Her father's window was dark, no sign of life inside.

"Goodbye, Papa," she whispered. She had loved his visits as a child. She'd wanted to be a daughter he could be proud of. But she couldn't be that and be herself at the same time.

She have his window one last tearful look and then turned away. It was time to face it all on her own.

* * *

Historical Note: I did a little research on clothing in the 1910's specifically undergarments and I discovered that the brassiere was invented 1910. It wasn't quite like the modern bra, but better than the corsets. Brassieres were instantly popular among younger women and I have a feeling Rose is wearing one while the ship is sinking as a corset of that period went down to a lady's thighs, making swimming very difficult, much less breathing.

There has been some debate over how church services on the Titanic were given. Some claim that third class passengers were allowed to attend the first class service. This seems unlikely to most historians as services were held in the second class and third class dining rooms. I agreed in James Cameron's film, Jack would not have been allowed into the first class religious service, even if he only wanted to talk to Rose.

The Titanic received several warnings of ice in the area. However, there were no regulations on how deliver the warnings. The wireless operators would give the messages to whoever was nearby and more often then not the messages would be forgotten. Bruce Ismay apparently acquired two and kept them in his pocket, showing them to one of the passengers.

The events of the collision have been heavily looked at. There are many reasons as to why the ship hit the iceberg. For one thing, the lookouts in the crows nest did not have binoculars. They had been misplaced at the start of the voyage and were never found. Secondly, it was a moonless night with a flat sea. The ocean was described as smooth like glass that night. Even a bit of a wave would have helped the lookouts see the iceberg as water would have splashed at the base. Third, the iceberg was a "blue berg" meaning it had recently turned over making it even more difficult to see. The end result was a disaster waiting to happen.

At 11:39 Lookout Fleet saw the dark mass of the iceberg and gave the bell three quick rings and then called the bridge. Sixth Officer Moody picked up immediately and Fleet told him, "Iceberg, right ahead!". Moody relayed the message to First Officer Murdoch who telegraphed the engine room to move hard a'starboard (force the ship to move right) and for Quartermaster Hichens who was at the helm to quickly change course. Unfortunately it was too late.

At 11:40, the Titanic "brushed up" against the iceberg. Passengers described the sensation as "rolling over a thousand marbles". A submerged shelf of the berg managed to buckle the steel plates, pop free rivets, thus opening up small holes along the starboard side of the ship. Modern ultrasound of the wreck show about six openings that are spread about twelve feet. It seems ridiculous, but it is true that the ship sank not from a long gash but from several small holes.

The Titanic had 16 watertight compartments, but only the first and the last two went above E deck. The first five compartments were hit. The ship was designed to avoid head on collisions, so actually had she hit the ship head on she would not have sunk. The ship could withstand up to four compartments flooded. Not five. As Mr. Andrews will soon figure out, once the first two compartments fill, they will splash into the next compartments into a chain reaction that will force the ship to sink by the head. The ship is now doomed.

A/N: So Belle is pregnant. Robert still doesn't remember and she is out on her own. Can things get much worse? Why yes, yes they can.

Next chapter will probably all be flashbacks of the sinking. I will show how Robert and Belle both survive the disaster, as well as many of the events that occured as the ship went down. Some of the people you have met will survive, some of them will not. You'll have to wait to find out who.


	6. Unsinkable

Disclaimer: Neither Once Upon A Time nor Titanic is mine.

A/N: So this took longer than I wanted, sorry everyone. Work, School and life all got in the way. But I finally found the time and got this chapter out. This chapter is entirely in flashbacks. It covers the entire 2 hours and 40 minutes it took for the Titanic to sink. I hope you all enjoy it.

**Anonymous**** Reviews:**

**Belle:** Sorry for the long wait, but it's finally here. You'll have to wait and see how Robert remembers, but sadly it's not in this chapter. I hope you like it.

**Erik's True Angel:** Yeah, the whole fic is pretty angsty since it deals with the Titanic. I'm glad you liked that Belle was pregnant. It was actually in my dream, but I was worried people wouldn't like it. I'm glad I was wrong and I hope you like this chapter.

**Laraine Thorpe:** Sorry you didn't care for the sex scene, but it was planned from the beginning and I did put a warning up in the last chapter and previous chapters. I didn't rate the story as M because that will probably be the only sex scene. I hope you like this chapter though.

**belle:** Here it is! I hope you like it.

**prttykitty7728:** I hope you come back to life to read this chapter, LOL. Of course, this chapter may kill you too.

**KacyMyth:** Yeah, I figured she'd go by Mrs. Gold. I think in Belle's mind she is married to him, at least in her heart. I hope this chapter is just as good as the others for you.

* * *

Chapter 6: Unsinkable

_April 14, 1912_

_11:40 P.M._

"_What was that?" Belle asked._

_ The night made it difficult to see, but the ship wasn't so far past it that he couldn't determine what it was. It was a giant block of ice, floating along the ocean. "It was an iceberg," he told her. He remembered hearing the crew talk about ice in the area. Apparently they'd found one._

"We hit it, didn't we?" Belle said.

Gold ducked out of the chilly air and turned back around to face her. She had the sheet wrapped around her delectable body, her face the same pale white. "Yes," he told her because there was no denying it.

"Do you think it was serious?"

"I'm not sure," he said, wishing he could say otherwise. He wasn't a seaman, but he could say with certainty that hitting an iceberg was never good. He wasn't sure how considerable the damage was. The slight hum of the engines stopped suddenly, leaving only a deathly silence in its wake.

Belle looked frightened now so he did the only thing he could do, wrap her in his arms and hold her close. "This is a big ship," he reminded her, "A feat of modern engineering. I doubt any real harm has been done. They'll assess the damage and we'll be on our way with a big story to tell in New York."

Belle nodded, but he could tell she was still tense. She was a smart girl, she had to know he wasn't completely sure of the truth in his words. One thing he did know was that everyone would be buzzing over this and their absence would be missed. "We better dress," he told her, "we can go up top and find out what's going on."

They both dressed quickly, but Belle was clearly at a disadvantage as she only had her damp dress from before to wear. He pulled out a coat for her to wrap herself in and they both left the cabin. There were a few people out in the corridor in their nightclothes, clearly wondering what was going on. A steward was reassuring one woman that everything was fine. "I believe we broke a propeller blade," he said, "Nothing to worry about."

"Did the iceberg hit the propellers?" Belle asked him quietly.

Gold shook his head. "I don't think so, we kept going a little ways after. It seemed to scrape up along the side."

The elevators were stopped so they had no choice but to take the stairs to A deck. People were curious, but no one appeared to be in a panic. He heard more than one complaint over why they had stopped. One woman was irritated because the jerking on the ship caused her to spill her drink all over her evening gown. A look on the deck below showed ice all over the place. Large chunks of ice were spread out on the wooden surface. Some boys on the third class promenade were playing catch with one piece of ice. Others kicked them around in sport.

None of the passengers appeared to be troubled, but Gold knew better than to look for them for a report. He scanned around for crewmembers, finding mostly stewards. None of the officers were in sight. "I want to go further up top," he said.

"I'll come with you."

"No, stay here, I won't be long."

He took the stairs as fast as he could with his cane, thankfully most everyone was staying down inside rather than going further up into the cold. The promenade was fairly empty, but he could see officers hurrying down from the bridge at a sprint. Captain Smith was coming down as well at a brisk pace. Thomas Andrews entered from the staircase with a grave look on his face. None of the men noticed Gold as they hurried to the stairs down to A deck.

"Can you shore up?" Smith asked one of the officers.

"Not unless the pumps can get ahead," the man said, "The water is pouring in."

"Which compartments are filling?" Andrews asked.

"Five have been hit. We're trying to pump…" then they were gone. There was no sense in chasing them down. He understood enough of what was going on. The damage was significant if water was flooding the ship below decks.

Belle was still at the rail, watching the steerage passengers play with the ice. She turned when she saw him, her lips parting a bit at his expression though he tried to keep his own concern covered. "Oh God, it's bad, isn't it?"

"I didn't hear much, but there is some damage. It seems parts of the ship are flooding." Her blue eyes widened at his words. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's all right. This ship is designed with watertight compartments. I'm sure they've closed the watertight doors and are just trying to pump out the water to prevent further flooding. This may delay us, but I'm sure we'll be on our way in the morning at least."

Belle nodded, but still stepped further into his arms for a warm embrace. She was frightened, but he had to pretend he wasn't for her sake. This ship was unsinkable, what was the worse that could happen?

"I need to find Cora and Regina," she said.

He nodded. "I'll take you back to your room. Hopefully they'll be there."

They took the stairs to A deck, still seeing everyone milling around without a care. On B deck they found waiters still handing out champagne and brandy, as well as cigars for the men. Belle looked towards the saloon and saw Regina's deep red dress amongst the crowd. "They're here," she said.

Gold followed her lead, but she didn't venture more than a step from his side. Cora was wearing her vanilla colored, crystal studded gown with her diamonds adorning her throat. She even had a small tiara in her hair, no doubt wanting to appear a queen on this ship. She smiled coyly when she saw him, but that smile fell away when she saw Belle at his side. "What on earth are you doing here? Why weren't you dressed for the evening?"

"Cora, something terrible has happened," she said, "The ship hit an iceberg."

"Yes, that was hard to miss, but it hardly matters."

"Not from what I saw with the captain," he said. He looked towards young Regina. "You'd best return to your cabin. I suspect we'll receive further instructions soon."

"Daniel," Regina said, "He's in second class."

"I'm sure Daniel's fine," Belle told her, "You know he's never much for parties, I'm sure he's in his room. I think we should return there too."

"This is ridiculous," Cora said, "Don't you think if something was wrong they would have told us by now."

"I don't know if anything is wrong," Gold admitted, "but there was definitely some damage. I think it would be best if you returned to your staterooms and wait."

Cora pressed her lips into a thin line, but followed after them as they made their way down to D deck. For once, Gold didn't feel the pain in his leg the entire time on the stairs. Belle was holding on his hand tightly, squeezing his fingers in an almost painful grip.

They entered a completely different scene than up top. Stewards were opening doors and giving out instructions. That told Gold it was much worse than he thought, but he didn't say it out loud. But Belle, she knew it too. He could see the way the blood drained from her face.

"Everyone please change into some warm clothing and put your lifebelts on, captain's orders. Everyone put on your lifebelts and go up to the boat deck."

"Daniel," Regina whispered, "I have to find Daniel."

"Go to your cabins and do what the stewards say," Gold told them all, "I'll go to my room and get my lifebelt. I'll meet you at the staircase."

"What about Daniel?" Regina said.

"I'll find him."

"What is going on?" Cora wanted to know.

"It's a drill," Belle whispered, but Gold doubted she believed it, "I'm sure that's all it is."

"Well this is hardly the time for such a thing."

"Nevertheless, we must follow the captain's orders," he said.

Cora and Regina walked towards their staterooms, but Belle lingered behind. "Go on," he told her. She had yet to let go of his hand.

"How bad do you think it is?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, but knew a lie wouldn't be enough to calm her. "Bad," he admitted, "they must want us off the ship so they can do the repairs."

Belle nodded, though whether she believed him or not he wasn't sure. He wasn't certain if he believed himself. The ship was unsinkable, though. It couldn't possibly be as bad as that, despite the doubt that nibbled at his mind.

"I'll find Daniel and Kent," Gold said, "then I'll meet you at the staircase on A deck."

"Please hurry," she said.

"Don't worry, I'm sure there is plenty of time and nothing to be afraid of." To prove his point he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. "Now go change into something warm. I'll see you soon."

He watched her scurry away, forcing himself to swallow back his fear. For once in his life he had to be brave and strong. He couldn't rely on others to get things done. This was up to him and his first priority was her.

This ship couldn't sink, he knew that. Which is why the slight tilt to the floor had to be entirely in his head. There was nothing truly terrible to fear. Nothing.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_April 15, 1912_

_12:15 A.M._

Belle couldn't figure out how everything could have changed in a matter of seconds. Only a half an hour before she had been happy, happier than she'd ever been before. Now all of that joy had burned away. What was left was uncertainty and more than a little fear.

She changed out of her dress and found her warmest clothes: a burgundy wool and twill dress and a dark blue coat. She found her black pigskin gloves, but had no hat that was suitable. She didn't bother pinning her hair at a time like this, choosing to tie it back with a ribbon instead. Belle found her lifejacket in her wardrobe, but couldn't begin to figure out how to buckle the contraption.

She held the bulky, white item in her hands and then knocked on Regina's door. Her cousin wore a black coat and had her lifebelt already buckled over her clothes. She didn't smile when she saw Belle. "Fiona is helping mother," Regina said, "I saw how she buckled that, let me help."

"Thank you."

Regina helped her slip the lifejacket on and set to work on the tiny buckles. "You weren't at dinner."

The whole thing had slipped Belle's mind. She had forgotten about the evening meal, forgotten about appearances. Now she realized this iceberg may have saved her reputation. Surely with both of them absent, it wouldn't have taken long for everyone to realize that she had been with Robert. There was no sense in pretending now, not when something truly dangerous may have happened.

"I was with Robert," she confessed.

"I had a feeling."

"I love him, Regina."

Her cousin nodded. "I know. I don't know if it's wise, but you have your own mind."

Belle nodded. "I do. He's a good man, Regina. He loves me too. We're going to find a way to be together."

"I hope you're right."

Cora opened the door to Regina's room. Now she was dressed in a burgundy coat with a matching hat and a white mink muff. Her lifebelt was buckled over her coat. "Well this is entirely ridiculous. I am sending a complaint to White Star Line the minute we return home. I'll be sure to talk to Mr. Ismay about this during breakfast tomorrow."

"Of course, mother," Regina said with a sigh. Belle chose not to say anything. For once, she actually hoped Cora was right. That this was all an overblown safety measure that everyone would gripe about come morning. She only wished the knot in her stomach agreed with her.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Kent had been waiting in Gold's stateroom and assisted him in finding his warmest clothes. The steward came in and showed him where the two lifebelts were stored. Gold instructed Kent to go up to the boat deck while he went in search of Daniel Stabler.

He remember Belle helping Regina find her way to E deck in order to have a rendezvous with the handsome chauffer, but Gold did not know where his stateroom was located. He began to ask some second class passengers he saw on the stairs at E deck if they knew the man. Finally a steward managed to direct him to E-17. Daniel was just exiting his stateroom with his lifebelt buckled over his coat when Gold caught up with him. Gold had instructed Kent to put his lifebelt under his coat since his was wide enough to accommodate the extra bulk. "Daniel, there you are," he called out to the young man.

"Mr. Gold, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Everyone is instructed to go up to the boat deck."

"I heard, but I have to find Regina first."

"I sent the ladies to their cabins to change," Gold said, "They're waiting for us on A deck."

Daniel gave him a relieved look and nodded for him to lead the way. "It sounded like we hit something."

"And iceberg, I saw it myself."

"Do you think its serious?"

"I'm not certain," Gold admitted, "But I suspect so."

"How bad can it be?" Daniel questioned, "This ship is unsinkable."

"We may learn more when we get up top."

They began to climb the staircase which was mostly empty. Stewards were trying to usher people up to the boat deck, but most weren't rushing to obey. It took a moment for Gold to notice the oddity, but when he did he stopped with one foot on the stair in front of him. He looked over at Daniel. "Do you feel that?"

There was a grave look in the young man's eyes as he nodded. Somehow the stairs seemed steeper. It was impossible to tell if one stood at the foot and looked up at the staircase. It was only when you started climbing that the difference was noticed. Gold had been on these stairs before and never noticed anything amiss. Still, he kept his wits about him and carried on.

A deck was full of passengers, some still dressed in evening wear, others in pajamas and coats. Many had their lifebelts on, but no one seemed troubled by the matter, confused, but not worried. Everyone was talking about the iceberg, the way they were forced out of their cabins, or even just chatting about the events at home. It was a crush of people who stood around gossiping and sipping from champagne the waiters were serving. It would have been comical to see the respectable members of society drinking champagne in night-rails and lifebelts, but Gold couldn't find it humorous.

He and Daniel managed to push their way through until they found the ladies waiting beside the staircase.

"Daniel!" Regina cried out in relief before leaping into his arms.

Cora grabbed the back of her daughter's coat to pull her away. "Regina! What had gotten into you? There are people here! You don't embrace servants like that!"

Gold was grateful that Belle didn't have a disapproving mother to keep her from stepping into his arms. "They keep telling us to go to the boat deck," she said.

"Then we best go up."

"I'm not going up there," Cora announced, "It's far too cold. Really, this whole business is preposterous."

"I think Mr. Gold is right," Daniel said, "We should follow the captain's orders, Mrs. Mills."

"Well you are free to think that, but no one else appears to be in a hurry to get up top. I think we should stay here. Surely they'll let us return to our rooms soon. They can't keep us here all night."

Gold finally had enough of her. "Do what you like, Cora, but I saw the iceberg. I think this is more serious than you believe. The rest of us are going up."

He held Belle's hand as they climbed up the grand staircase. Regina followed with Daniel at her side. Cora watched the leaving before letting out an irritable sigh and following. "Really, this is nonsense."

The blast of cold air that met them chilled Gold to the bone even though he wore he warmest clothing. The night sky was full out countless stars, free of clouds and even the moon. All around them was the inky black of the calm sea. The iceberg was gone now. There was nothing around them for miles.

There were several passengers up on deck, many wearing warm clothing but others shivering in their evening or nightwear. Gold could see crewmen hurrying about, ripping open the covers of the lifeboats and trying to assemble them to the pulleys. The knot in his gut tightened even more.

Suddenly there was a loud roar that startled everyone on the deck. Belle's grip on his hand tightened and she pressed her herself into his side. He put his arm around her but nudged her to look up at the funnels. Steam was gushing out of the funnels in white, billowing clouds. It was fierce and earsplitting, like being next to a train when it let out a piercing whistle. After a few minutes the steam abated, leaving an unpleasant ringing in Gold's ears.

"They're readying the boats," Gold said.

"That's just part of the drill, right?" Regina asked. He didn't have the heart to break her illusion. He saw she clung to Daniel's side in a bone crushing grip.

"Do they really expect us to get in one of those boats? At this hour of the night?" Cora questioned in her peevish way, "_I'm_ not going out there!"

"Robert," Belle whispered, "What is going on?"

She sounded so frightened, almost like a child. He didn't know how to tell her that he was scared too. Somehow seeing the boats being prepared to be lowered into the icy sea destroyed what little hope he had that everything would be well. No. He was certain of it now. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

"I—I don't know," he admitted because he truly didn't. "I'd like to get a straight answer, though."

He looked over at young Daniel, his eyes wide as he stared at the chaos. "Let's bring the ladies to the gymnasium, it will be much warmer there. Then you and I can see if we can find out what is going on."

Daniel nodded but did not give a verbal response. Gold led the way with Belle to the gymnasium, Cora muttering her displeasure over the whole situation the entire time. They were not the first passengers to decide to stay in the warmth of the gymnasium. Stewards were passing out coffee and brandy for warmth. Unlike the passengers on A deck, these were actually confused and frightened. These were the passengers who knew something was wrong but still didn't know what was coming. They sat on the exercise equipment or stood in groups, talking about what was going on and what little they knew.

He found Colonel Astor and his wife sitting on the mechanical horses. "Astor," he said the man in greeting.

"Gold, good man, do you have any idea what is going on?"

"I plan to find out. Do you want to come along?"

"No, I'll stay with my wife. I'll keep an eye on the ladies."

"Very good," Gold said. He gave Belle's hand a squeeze and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I have news."

"Please hurry," Belle said.

He hated leaving her, but he knew that he had to find out what was going on. He needed to know what he had to do to make sure she was safe. Gold never considered himself an honorable man per se, but he put those he love first above anyone else, including himself. Everyone else on this ship could go to hell, but he was going to make sure Belle was all right.

Daniel followed him out of the gymnasium. The boat deck was still chaotic. He could see Captain Smith conferring with Chief Officer Wilde and First Officer Murdoch up on the bridge. How odd that just a few short hours he had bee dashing off with Belle from that same place, eager to have another taste of forbidden adventure. Mr. Ismay appeared to be having an argument with Lightoller as they surveyed the moving of one of the boats. Gold had always thought Ismay to be a fastidious man, but now he wore only a dressing gown and slippers, despite the cold night.

Thomas Andrews was the one who was speaking to the passengers, giving instructions to the crewman, and hurrying along like he had the devil at his back. Gold nodded for Daniel to follow him as they stepped right in front of Andrew's path.

"Mr. Gold, I'm sorry, but I'm very busy…" Andrews began, trying to sidestep them both.

"I saw the iceberg," Gold said. Andrews paled at the mention of it. "I'm quite certain we hit it."

"Yes," Andrews admitted.

"What I don't know is how severe the damage is," Gold said, "There are a few ladies myself and young Stabler here care about and we very much want to ensure their safety. I would appreciate your honesty in this manner."

Mr. Andrews stared at Gold for a while. Gold hated being surmised like that, but he didn't let it bother him now. He didn't know Andrews all that well, but he suspected the man was harboring something and now he wanted to know if he could be trusted. Finally Andrews let out a resigned sight.

"It's very bad, I'm afraid," he said, "The ship is sinking."

Everything Gold believed in, every last shred of hope he had left, flickered away like ash from a cigar. It was over. The worse was true. The solid wood he stood on, the tons and tons of steel that felt so safe beneath his feet, were failing.

"How…" Gold stopped to clear his throat, "How long do we have?"

"Not long enough. I'd estimate two hours."

"That's all?" he asked in astonishment. The _Republic_ had taken nearly two days to sink. How could a ship that was larger and superior than the _Republic_ sink in so little time?

Andrews nodded solemnly. "Please, Mr. Gold, keep this to yourself. I don't want to start a panic on the ship. I feel I can trust you with that. But you must get Miss French and the others to the boats as soon as you can. There isn't much time and I fear…"

"What?" Daniel asked, "What else could there be?"

Andrews swallowed hard, his eyes straying to the men who worked on rigging up one of the lifeboats. "There aren't enough boats, not for everyone on board."

Gold's mouth fell open, his eyes widening at the shocking news. His stomach twisted cruelly in belly, somewhere between pain and nausea. Not enough boats. Not everyone would get off the ship alive. How many would die tonight? It wasn't a matter of if, but when.

"My God," he heard Daniel whisper. He couldn't help but agree, but he had no voice to say anything.

"I'm sorry I can't give you any better news, I truly wish I could," Andrews told them, his voice apologetic but utterly hopeless, "You best get the women to the boats."

"Yes," Gold said, "Yes, we shall. Thank you for the truth, Mr. Andrews, as horrible as it is."

Andrews nodded to him. "Good luck to you, Mr. Gold."

Gold bobbed his head in reply, any words he had caught by the tightening in his throat. Sinking. The _Titanic_ was going under beneath his very feet and there were not enough boats for everyone on board. Tonight was supposed to be the beginning of a new start to his life. Now it appeared not to be a beginning, but an ending.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

It was warm in the gymnasium, but the air was so thick that Belle nearly choked on it. The room buzzed with fear, uncertainty, and disillusion. Cora was one of those who refused to admit that something was wrong. Instead she was chatting with one of the other ladies about the how White Star Line was ruining their voyage and she expected a full refund for her trip for such an inconvenience. Belle almost envied her. She hated being bogged down in such fear. She wished she could believe that by morning everything would be well again, this would all seem like a horrible dream.

She wished it so badly.

Instead she sat there and counted the minutes until Robert would return. She knew he would find out what was going on. But while he was gone, she felt so bereft. He made her feel safe. In this dark, cold night of uncertainty she knew just the sound of his voice in her ear would make all of her fears vanish like snow falling on a fire.

"I'm glad Mr. Gold found Daniel," Regina said to her, her voice brittle and frail.

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," Belle told her.

"Yes," Regina agreed. Her fingers were twisted into knots in her black gloves. "I'm certain. I must thank him for finding Daniel. I did not expect him to actually do that."

"He's not the man you think he is," Belle told her.

"Perhaps you're right. I think a part of me wanted to blame him for how my mother is, but maybe it was different. Maybe she brought out the worst in him." Regina smiled at her a little. "You bring out the best."

Belle smiled softly. "I like to believe it was always there. He has a good heart, Regina."

"Then I hope you'll be happy together."

She was glad that she and Regina had found a way to be friends. She had thought her cold and somber when they first met, but the spark of new love had truly blossomed out her true colors. She wanted them both to be happy. They would. She knew that if you truly loved someone then nothing could destroy that.

At last, she saw Robert pushing through the crowd with Daniel at his heels. She smiled, letting out the breath she had been holding the moment she saw him. Everything would be all right now. Robert was here, he would know what to do.

But then she saw the look in his eyes and she knew…it wouldn't be all right. He couldn't return the smile he gave her, though she could see he did try. Daniel looked pale, his dark eyes wide with fear. She didn't care what Cora thought, Belle immediately launched herself into Robert's arms, burying her face into his chest.

"It's bad," she said because she knew.

He nodded, pressing his nose into her hair. "I have to get you to the lifeboats as soon as we can."

Belle lifted her head so she could look into his eyes. "Robert, why?"

His cupped one cheek with his hand. "The ship is sinking, Belle. I'm afraid there is no hope for it."

Belle swayed a bit at the news, prompting him to tighten the arm around her waist to keep her steady. She felt all of the blood drain from her face. "What? No! It can't!"

Robert shook his head softly. "I'm afraid it can. We were all wrong, Belle. The ship is sinking fast. I have to get you off of it."

"But what about you?"

"It's women and children first," Robert said, "I could hear the captain calling for it before we came in. I'm sure the men will be getting on the boats after the women have been loaded."

"But I don't want to leave without you."

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I know, sweetheart, but you must. I won't let you stay on this ship a minute longer than you have to."

"Why can't we just get off together?" Belle asked. Why must the women get off first? Couldn't everyone just leave together? What about women with families? The captain couldn't expect a woman to care for her children alone, or leave both a husband and a son behind.

"It's the rules," he told her softly, "Now you are going to get off this ship Belle, even if I have to carry you to the lifeboat myself."

He was serious. Even if he couldn't carry her, he would have the crewmen force her into a boat. She knew he said it because he loved her, but she just wanted to stay with him. Whatever happened, she just wanted that. So Belle clung to him tighter and nodded, "Not yet," she said, "please don't make me go just yet. Just a little more time, please?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and nodded. "A little longer," he said, "we won't say goodbye just yet."

She never wanted to say goodbye. Silently, she prayed that a miracle would come and let her stay with Robert. _Please,_ she begged, _don't let this end tonight. Please_.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_12:45 A.M._

It took some persuading to convince Cora to leave the warmth of the gymnasium and get out onto the boat deck. Normally Gold wouldn't care if Cora stood there to rot for the rest of the night, but he knew Belle wouldn't leave her there nor could he in good conscience allow her to die because of her own pigheadedness.

If Thomas Andrews hadn't told him himself of the danger, Gold wasn't sure if he'd believe it. The ship was still brightly lit by the electric lights and sitting high in the water. The band was out on deck playing ragtime tunes to the dark night sky. It was almost comical seeing them play such sprightly songs with lifebelts buckled over their chests.

Belle huddled close to his side, perhaps because she was cold but he suspected she was hoping to find a way to stay with him. He meant what he said. She was getting off of this ship when he said she would. Young Daniel had roused himself from his shock and was quietly telling Regina she would be fine in the lifeboat, assuring her that nothing bad would happen to her out in that endless sea.

Cora simply stood there and watched as they lowered a lifeboat into the ocean. Gold was a bit surprised how much empty space there was on the boat. There were nearly thirty people on the tiny vessel but it seemed like it could carry at least twice that number. Andrews had admitted there were too few boats for everyone on board, so why not fill them to capacity? That gave Gold a flicker of hope. Surely the wireless operators were sending out distress calls to all ships in the area. One must be nearby. They were filling the boats quickly so they could begin ferrying the passengers to the oncoming ship, just like when the _Republic_ sank.

Down below, it looked like the lifeboat was having trouble. First there was the frantic shout for the "plug", then it appeared the crewmen were having trouble rowing the boat away from the _Titanic_. Gold was glad Belle had insisted on waiting. He wanted her in a boat with experienced crewmen who would get her away safely.

"This is ridiculous!" Cora declared when she saw the incompetence below her, "I'm going back inside! This nonsense will be over soon and then we can call go back—!"

A sudden hissing sound came from the bridge. A trail of sparks appeared in the sky, climbing higher and higher and higher until it reached its peek and burst into a shower of white light. Rockets. Gold could see in the glow Cora's mouth drop open, her eyes wide with new fright. Even she knew that rockets were only fired at sea in times of distress.

When the light died down, she closed her gaping mouth and hugged herself. At last, something had finally silenced her. Gold stared out across the black horizon. There was nothing but stars and emptiness…or was there?

There, far off into the distance he could see a white light. It was too low to be a star, hanging just above the water. He squinted harder. Yes, down beside it was dim green light too. That was no star.

He smiled a little and nudged Belle. "Look," he pointed to the lights, "It's a ship."

Belle peered out where his hand pointed then gasped. "Are they coming for us?"

"I'm sure they are," Gold told her, "The rockets are to guide her to our position. Once she arrives, they'll ferry the boats back and forth until everyone is off the ship."

He tilted her chin up so she was looking into his eyes. He could the bright hope shining in those blue orbs. "It won't be goodbye for long," he told her, "I'll see you on the other ship."

Belle nodded. "Then we'll get off in New York together."

"Yes," he agreed, "Together."

When the next rocket went off, they both jumped a little but this time the sound didn't fill him with dread. Another ship was coming. It would all be all right.

Gold found himself the de facto leader of their little group. Daniel didn't even try to assume command, Cora was still in shock that she was actually in mortal danger, Regina was at a loss of what to do and Belle…Belle didn't care what he did as long as she was with him.

He decided to move to the port side of the boat after witnessing the incompetence of the men in the first boat to leave on the starboard side. They arrived just in time to see Molly Brown being scooped up by a crewman and dropped down six feet into a lifeboat. Belle gasped, breaking free of Gold to rush to railing to check on their friend.

Molly was fine. She landed on her feet, her hat a bit askew, but otherwise in perfect order. Belle slowly walked back to him, taking his hand again. "They must be desperate if they are tossing people into the boats," she said.

"They need to get everyone off quickly," he told her, then squeezed her hand. "You'll be fine, Belle."

He knew he had to get her off the ship quickly, but he found he was reluctant to let her go as well. Seeing those boats drifting out into the black sea seemed like a dangerous option considering the warmth and glow the Titanic still offered. He knew it was a façade, the real threat was beneath their feet, but still he held on to Belle. This could be their final hour together, he wanted it to last as long as it could.

So they watched as another boat began to fill. The rockets had begun a slight run to the boats, but there was no panic just yet. Now men were urging their women and children into the boats. Colonel Gracie was ushering women into the boat with the speed of any good military man. The boat they stood before was ready to lower when Gold saw Mr. and Mrs. Straus walk by.

"Get on in, Mrs. Straus," Colonel Gracie urged her.

"Yes," Isidor Straus told his wife, "It is best for you to be off now."

There was such pain in the old man's voice. It gave Gold a glimpse of what was to come for him. The sinking or the ice cold ocean wouldn't kill him, having to put Belle into the boat and never see her again would do him in.

Mrs. Straus moved towards the boat, reaching for it, but then stopped. She shook her head and turned back to her husband. "We have been living together for many years; where you go, I go."

Hugh Woolner looked towards Officer Lightoller who nodded once. He looked back at Straus. "I'm sure no one would object to an old gentleman like yourself getting in."

Isidor shook his weathered head. "I will not go before the other men."

Ida Straus then took off her fur coat and wrapped it around her maid. "Here, take this. I won't be needing it." The gently nudged the woman to the boat.

Gold saw tears rolling down the maid's face as she stepped into the boat. Belle's own eyes were wet as she saw the couple move to set in to lounge chairs, still holding hands. He envied the Strauses. They'd had a lifetime together so it made sense that they would go down together as well. But he'd only had a few days with Belle. He couldn't ask her to end it all because he loved her so desperately. He wouldn't. Belle was getting off of this ship. There was no other option, even if it ended in his death.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_1:25 A.M._

Several lifeboats were already out on the water. The list in the deck was obvious now, but still many people didn't appear worried. Only the crew was anxiously trying to get women and children into the boats. Belle could look down towards the bow of the boat and see it slipping silently into the water. It had only been an hour. One hour and already she could see the ship was doomed.

"It's time you got off," Robert said into her hair, "They'll be running for the boats soon."

Cora, Regina, and Daniel were standing close to the gymnasium door in an effort to keep warm. Belle didn't want to go, not with out Robert. But the shouts were still "Woman and children only!" No men.

"Will another ship come soon?" she asked as another rocket shot up into the sky, letting out a brilliant plume of white.

"I believe so," he said, "Captain Smith will have put out a distress call with our coordinates. Every ship in our vicinity will be coming to our aid as fast as they can."

"But the ship, it's sinking so fast."

"It'll be fine," he told her, pressing a kiss to her temple, "It'll all be all right, Belle."

They moved over to where her cousins and Daniel stood. For once, Cora was completely silent. Even she knew they wouldn't be able to stay there any longer. "You should all get off the ship now," Gold said.

"They're readying a boat over there," Daniel pointed down the port side towards the bow. "I saw some crewman headed that way."

"Lead the way then," Gold directed him with his cane. Cora let Regina stick close to Daniel and didn't say a word as Belle remained tucked into Robert's side. The horrible truth that this magnificent ship would soon be resting at the bottom of the ocean, that people would die, had numbed her.

The crew were desperately uncovering and readying one of the lifeboats. Men were pushing their wives and children towards it, though some still resisted. "Women and children first!" an officer shouted again.

The boat began loading, the men assisting the women into the hard planks for seats. Belle clung to Robert's arm, a part of wishing the boat would fill up and she would have to stay. "Come along," an officer said and gently took Cora's arm to lead her to the boat. "Women and children, please? Only women and children at this time!"

"Go on, Regina," Daniel said as he nudged her towards the boat.

Belle noticed a steely look enter Regina's eyes, it reminded her of when she'd deliberately hidden put some sleeping powder in Cora's tea so she could go out for a drive with Daniel, or when she'd worn Belle's shoes so they would be mud covered and everyone would think it was Belle sneaking out at night in Paris instead of her. She smiled at the officer and said, "Don't you need experienced seamen on the boats? Daniel is an excellent sailor. Please, let him onboard."

"Is this true, sir?" the officer asked.

"Well, I—," Daniel stalled. He looked at Regina and then at the ocean. Belle knew he was wondering just how cold that water was. Soon people would be drowning in it. Perhaps even him.

"It's true," Regina insisted, "Please, you'll need him I'm sure of it."

Robert shook his head and stepped away from Belle. "Daniel, you can't do it," he said, "There are too many women and children still on this ship."

"Don't listen to him," Regina hissed, "Please, get on the boat." Tears filled her dark brown eyes. "Please, Daniel, you have to come."

"Daniel, you are a good man," Robert said, "You know what you must do."

Daniel shut his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry, Regina, but I can't."

"Daniel, please!" she begged.

"Regina, stop this nonsense and get in the boat!" Cora snapped at last, "Stop making a scene!"

"Get in the boat," Daniel told her softly, "I'll see you on the rescue ship, I promise."

She nodded, but tears glistened her cheeks as she finally stepped into the swinging craft right next to her mother. Belle looked at the boat, wetting her dry lips. She knew she was next.

"Go on, Belle," Robert said, pushing her gently, "It's time.

She knew she had to do it, she knew Robert wouldn't let her stay on the sinking ship any longer, but she didn't want to! Not without him. With a sob she turned around and threw her arms around him, burying her face into the collar of his coat. "Please, Robert, don't make me go!"

"Belle," he whispered her name, patting her curls with his hand, "Belle, you have to."

"I don't want to leave you here."

"I'll be all right. I'm far too villainous to die heroically on this ship," he told her, "Ask anyone."

She couldn't stop the tremulous smile at his words. She didn't believe him for a second, not after how he convinced Daniel to do the brave thing and stay. "It's not fair," she whispered.

"No," he agreed, his voice a little hoarse, "No, it's not." He gently pulled her away so he could cup her face in his hands. "Four days is not enough time, but know that I have loved you for four lifetimes in those days."

He took his hands away, but only to pluck the large gold ring with the translucent blue stone off of his finger. He pressed it into her hand. "Take this, hold onto it for me. Do you promise?"

Belle nodded, tears filling her eyes. "Don't act like this is the last time I'll see you, please, Robert."

Robert sighed, combing his fingers through her hair. "Belle…" She felt him pluck the dark blue ribbon from her hair. She didn't care. She knew what he was doing, but she wouldn't allow it.

"This won't be the end," she told him.

"No, it won't." But she wasn't sure if he believed it himself.

"This is true love," she said, "It can't end like this. I will see you again."

She didn't care that Cora, Regina and so many others were near. None of that mattered now. She leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck to run her gloved fingers through his hair. He kissed her desperately, like this would be their last, but she refused to accept that. Still, she didn't want this kiss to end.

But end it did. Robert gave her another push towards the boat so the officer could take her arm, then he stepped away. She wordlessly climbed into the boat behind Regina, staring up at him all the while. "I love you," she said.

His lips twitched. "I love you too."

Then the boat began it's descent towards the Atlantic.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

Gold stood on the deck and watched as Belle's boat pulled away from the dying ship. It was impossible to identify which lady was her in the boat, but he continued to stand their and keep a vigil. He wanted her far away from this tragedy, as far as that tiny boat could get.

Young Daniel stood at his side, watching the same boat row away. Gold didn't blame Regina for trying to get Daniel to board the lifeboat. A part of him wish he'd tried something like that. He didn't want to die. It wasn't fair that the ship was sinking and there weren't enough boats. A part of him was furious at White Star Line for guaranteeing a ship that God couldn't sink when now they were all proven wrong. What made him truly bitter was that there was nothing he could do about it. More than that, he was simply scared. Now that Belle was gone he wasn't sure if he could keep a brave face.

A quick glance to the horizon showed what he's expected for a while now. The light was gone. The ship, if it had ever been there, was not coming.

"That was a brave thing you did, Mr. Stabler," Gold told him.

"Thank you," Daniel said, "It just didn't seem right getting on that boat when other men have the courage to stay on board."

Gold knew he was thinking of Straus. Yes, there was something to be said about the way the older had refused to take a place in the boat, even to save his wife.

"It was an honorable thing, especially with what we know" Gold said, "Of the two of us, I'd place my bet on you. You're young, strong, they'll have the boats come back for survivors soon enough. You should have no trouble making it to a boat."

Daniel stiffened then shook his head and swallowed hard. "I can't swim, sir."

Gold tried to hide his shock, but knew he failed. "Oh," was all he could say. Privately he wondered if he should have let Regina lie and get him on that boat. At the same time, he had new respect for Daniel's courage. He was far braver than he

"You truly are a brave soul, Daniel," he told him.

"So are you, Mr. Gold."

"Only when someone I love is at risk." Gold opened his pocket watch to check the time, but forgot to do so when he saw the picture of Bae.

His son.

If he died tonight then at least he left a strong empire to his only a child and a legacy for everyone else. But would Bae know that his father managed to be strong in the end? Would he be proud? Would he know how much he loved him? And Belle, what would happen to her if he died? Would she marry Gaston? Would she find someone else to give her love to? A man could go mad just thinking over how his life would end and the way the world would turn without him.

"Let's go back inside," Gold said, "No sense in standing out here in the cold."

Daniel nodded, letting him lead the way back down to A deck. The first class lounge was still open, though the waiters had stopped serving. Some of the men were still playing cards despite the somber mood in the air. Just then Benjamin Guggenheim came back from his room in his evening clothes though Gold had seen him earlier dressed in warmer things. One of the other men asked what he was doing. "I intend to go down as a gentleman," he said. Guggenheim's secretary was also dressed in his best clothes.

Seeing him reminded Gold of his own servant. He hadn't seen Kent since they'd abandoned his stateroom. He'd told Kent to go up to the boat deck, but he hadn't seen him.

"I need to find my valet," Gold told Daniel, "Stay here if you like, you'd be in good company."

Daniel nodded once. "All right. Good luck, sir."

"Same to you, Mr. Stabler."

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_1:50 A.M._

There were only three crewmen in Belle's lifeboat. One sat at the, guiding the boat, while the other two each had and oar and worked to row the boat away from the _Titanic_. Progress was slow, but it gave the occupants plenty of time to survey the damage.

The bow was submerged almost completely now. It looked like half of the ship was slipping down into the water, like a bird dipping its head in for a drink. The lights were still bright, even the ones beneath the ocean. Now Belle could see the stern was actually raised above the water, its propellers peeking out from their usual submergence.

There were other boats in the area, but none of them were trying to group together. There seemed to be no order to escape, it was simply a flee from the horrible sight. Belle shivered in her seat next to Regina. Neither said a word, just sat there huddled to keep warm. It was bitterly cold, even in her warmest clothes Belle still could felt like she was freezing into a statue.

Belle looked around at her companions. The only men in the boat were the crewmen. There were several first class women, a few second class, and one third class woman with four children. One first class women held a little white dog in her lap, hugging it tightly to her chest. The poor little thing shivered, but also didn't make a sound. Everyone was in mourning for someone or something this night.

She thought she would be crying, but the tears wouldn't come. She kept thinking of Robert, the look in his eyes as she drifted away from him. She had wanted to jump out of the boat and stay with him, come what may. Ida Straus had that courage, why couldn't she?

She shut her eyes and thought of the past four days. She didn't want to think about Robert all alone on a sinking ship. She wanted to think about walking around the ship with him talking about their lives and all of things they never told anyone. She wanted to think about the way they'd made clever quips and teasing remarks on their fastidious passengers at the dinner table with no one the wiser. She wanted to think about all of their kisses, sweet and tender, fiery and full of passion. She wanted to think about how they made love, how beautiful it had been and how right it had felt. She didn't want to focus on the terrible present. Instead she chose to live in the past where she had been happy and full of love.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_2:10 A.M._

Gold had searched high and low but could find no sign of Kent. The terrain on the ship was getting steeper by the minute. Everyone was making a mad dash for the stern. The crew was working frantically to finish loading another lifeboat. It was the final boat.

Some of the passengers were already jumping into the water, hoping to be taken aboard one of the boats already afloat. Most were still helplessly out of range. Gold couldn't see which boat was Belle's anymore, but that was a good thing. He didn't want her to see him on deck. He wanted her final memory of him to be of happier times.

He found Astor close to the bridge, staring out at the coming sea. He had a lit cigar in his mouth, casually puffing it with a calm look in his eyes. He greeted Gold cordially and offered him a cigar himself. Gold shook his head. "Suit yourself."

"Is your wife away?"

Astor nodded. "Put her in that boat, over there." He pointed out to one of the boats that was still fairly close, but still too far to make out any occupants. "She's scared. I wanted to go with her but…"

Gold nodded in understanding. "At least she and the baby will be well."

"What about your young lady?"

"I got her off too," Gold told him. There was no sense in denying that Belle was his woman now, not when death was licking it's way up the deck.

"It won't be long now."

"No it won't," Gold agreed.

He left Astor to his vigil and cigar. If he couldn't find Kent, perhaps could find Daniel again. It was strange. He's always been a solitary creature, but now he found he didn't want to face it all alone. He could hear the band playing out a sad, sweet hymn. "Nearer My God to Thee", he realized. It was a fitting tribute to a dying ship.

There was sudden lurch on the ship that almost sent him to his knees. Something had changed down below. There was a series of bangs, thuds and rumbles that sent tremors up to his feet. He turned around and saw the bridge where he'd raced out of earlier with Belle vanishing beneath the water. A wave of ocean was churning it's way up the deck. Astor had vanished.

More than one person tried a desperate escape but couldn't. The sea swept them off, tossing them into oblivion. He couldn't run, not with his leg. The sea would take him no matter what he did. But Gold was not a man who surrendered. If he was going down then it was going to be on his terms.

He tossed the useless cane aside and stripped off his coat. It would do him no good in the water and would likely drag him down with the weight. His lifebelt was buckled over his shirt. He didn't notice the cold now. Gold gave one last look at the boats rowing away. _Goodbye Belle_.

He leapt over the side of the ship.

Down, down, down. It felt like an eternity, then he sank into the ocean's cold embrace.

Knives, needles, pins, everything that was sharp, seemed to stab into him all at once. This wasn't cold, this was penetrating. He couldn't think to move his limbs, all he could focus on was the pain.

Thankfully, his lifebelt did its job and brought him up to the surface. He gasped in air thirstily, feeling it freeze his lung when he did. Other passengers flailed and screamed, begging God to save them somehow. Gold pushed it all away. He had to stop thinking about the cold. One good thing was that he couldn't feel the pain in his leg because of it. Now he had to swim.

The lifebelt may have kept him from sinking, but it also made it difficult to swim. The vest kept trying to keep him in an upright position, making it hard to gain any ground as he tried to swim away from the ship. Fighting the cold and the lifebelt tired him very quickly. That was the danger. He couldn't let himself tire out. If he did then the cold would creep upon him again and that would only lead to death. He had to keep swimming.

But by God it was hard. He wasn't a young man anymore. He may have been a good swimmer in a heated pool, but swimming in the ocean fully dressed and with numb limbs was an entirely different matter. He wouldn't last long.

He barely noticed it when his hand smacked into something hard. It didn't hurt, his hand was too numb to feel that, but it did jar him a bit. It was a deck chair. Either it had slipped into the ocean or someone had tossed it in. Either way, it would be his lifesaver. His clammy fingers were clumsy as he reached out and grabbed it. It wouldn't keep him out of the water, but it would help so he wouldn't have to fight so much with each kick.

A loud moan ripped through the air. Gold looked over towards the ship, still brightly lit. Her stern was high out of the water now. The bow was completely gone, surrounding the first funnel. The funnel swayed a bit like some tipsy dancer trying to regain her balance. Then he saw it as it bent at it's base, the strain of the water too much to keep it upright.

It slowly began it's descent towards the sea. He was close, so close. Would it crush him? No, it would miss him by a few feet, but other swimmers could only watch in horror as their luck finally ran out.

A giant wave rose up from the falling funnel. The wave washed over Gold, sending him and his chair further out into the sea. He wondered how close he was to Belle, but that was all he had time to wonder. Something hard crashed into his head from the splash of the funnel. It all went black.

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_2:15 A.M._

It was a cruel thing to have such a magnificent view of the sinking _Titanic_. Belle couldn't look away. The ship was still lit. Her stern was raised up towards the sky like she was trying to reach out and touch it. There was a loud roar, like the ship was screaming out in agony.

"What is that?" someone whispered.

"The boilers blowing," one of the crewmen said.

"No," the officer disagreed, "It'd be louder than that. It's everything inside breaking apart and smashing into each other."

That made sense. Tilted so high like that, everything that wasn't bolted down was bound to be sliding down and crashing into each other. Walls were breaking under the pull of the water, doors were being ripped off their hinges. Dishes were smashing into bits, beds were being turned into splintered firewood. All of those beautiful things she had admired when she'd first stepped onboard were being destroyed.

She didn't care.

Robert and hundreds of others were still onboard. Would all of that stuff be slamming into them? Would any of them have a chance to even swim to safety?

The lights on the ship flickered once, giving a last glimpse of it's horrific beauty, then went out. Belle gasped at the sudden loss of light. What did that mean? It was like the ship finally had the manners to turn off her display and let the survivors in the boats be spared her death. At the same time, hope died along with the lights.

They could still hear screams and cries from those still onboard the ship. They must be praying, begging for some salvation to come and stop this disaster.

Another sound pierced the air. It was sharp crack, followed by another and another. Belle knew that sound. Something was breaking apart. The night may have been dark, but she could still make out the black shape of the ship. There were more screams from the darkness, then the stern that had once been raised so high plummeted back down to the sea.

There was a sharp cry in the air. It took a moment for Belle to realize it was her own. She was now standing in her lifeboat, causing in to rock precariously in the sea. Someone tried to tug her down but she remained standing.

"Robert!" she shouted, "Robert!" He was out there. Was he still on board when the ship broke in half like a dry twig? Or was in the water, flailing and gasping for air.

"Robert! Robert! Robert!"

Finally someone forced her back into her seat. A palm came out and struck her across the face. Belle was silenced at once. She didn't know who hit her, but she couldn't blame them. Instead she stared back at the ship.

The stern was bobbing in the water at first, but now was slowly being raised again. It rose higher and higher and higher until she nearly stood on end. She stopped for a second, letting everyone see her, before she began to slip back down into the water. Down she went, the water consuming every last inch of her.

At last, there was a large gurgle from the sea, like the Atlantic was thanking the world for it's fine meal. It was over. The _Titanic_ was gone.

Belle put her head into her hands and finally wept.

* * *

Historical Note: Immediately after the collision Captain Smith called Thomas Andrews, Chief Officer Wilde, First Officer Murdoch and the ship's carpenter to find out what had happened and assess the damage. It was apparent that something was terribly wrong. Ismay came out of his room, still in his nightwear, to see what was going on. Within 45 minutes 13,500 tons of water was already in the ship. Andrews quickly determined that with five water tight compartments struck and quickly flooding that the ship would not last long.

Captain Smith ordered the boats to be uncovered at 12:05 on April 15th. The wireless operators Jack Phillips and Harold Bride immediately sent out the distress call, both CQD (Come Quickly, Distress) and the new signal SOS (little known fact, SOS actually means nothing. It's just easier to tap out than CQD). At 12:15, the stewards began urging passengers to put on lifebelts and get up the boat deck. Most passengers were still not certain of what was going on and weren't worried.

It is true that Thomas Andrews told a few passengers the truth about the sinking ship. Most crewmen were either too busy to talk about it or chose not to in order to prevent a panic. Andrews only told the ones he knew could hold it together. Bruce Ismay, upon seeing that his dream was sinking into the Atlantic, frantically tried to help, but wound up seeming rather incompetent to the crew. His efforts were more successful in helping some of the passengers get off the ship.

There was a ship close to the Titanic that night. The _Californian_ was at least 11 miles away from the Titanic, stopped for the night because of ice. Passengers and crew could see the lights of the other ship and the the crew of the Californian could see the lights of the Titanic. The crew even saw eight of the distress rockets launched. However, the captain, Stanley Lorde, was something of a tyrant when at sea and his crew was too afraid to wake him to tell him about the possible distress at sea. Later, they thought that the ship sailed away. They were very wrong. At the inquiry, the ship's "scrap log" of the night was presented to the senate and it was found that the entry of April 15th was missing.

At 12:45 the first lifeboat was launched, the crewmen on the boat did have some difficulty managing it as there really was no proper drill done with the crew. Meanwhile, inside the ship, the engineers and several stokers all worked to pump the water out of the ship and keep the lights going. None of the engineers survived the sinking. Margaret Brown really was tossed into lifeboat 6 by a crewman, but she never complained. The boats were all severely underloaded because most crewmen were unaware of the exact capacity of the boats.

Ida Straus really did refuse to board a lifeboat. When Mr. Straus was also offered passage, he did refuse as well. The last anyone ever saw of them, they were sitting in lounge chairs holding hands. Mr. Straus's body was recovered, but Ida's was never found. There is a plaque memorializing them in the Macy's Department store in New York City today.

By 1:30, the Titanic was at such an angle that no one was in denial anymore. People began rushing for the boats, but there were still too few. The ship had 20 boats total, including the four collapsible boats. This was actually more than what was required by maritime standards, but far less than they needed. The last boat was launched at 2:05 A.M.

At 2:15, the bulkheads inside the ship collapsed. This plunged the bow further beneath the water, sending a wave up part of the ship. The bridge went under and this is probably when Captain Smith either drowned in the bridge, or was swept out to the sea. Some survivors claimed to have seen him in the water after the sinking. The first funnel collapsed, falling onto some unlucky swimmers. At 2:18, the ship split in two between the third and fourth funnel. The double hull on the bottom managed to stay attached for some time, so as the bow sank away, it pulled the stern up right until it was almost at 90 degrees. Then they detached, and the stern sank into the sea. The Titanic was gone at 2:20. The total sinking was 2 hours and 40 minutes.

A/N: This was a heavy chapter for me. Lots of sadness and some hard decisions on what I should include from the historical record. I hope you all enjoyed it.

Next Chapter: The survivors of the Titanic wait for rescue. Meanwhile in the present, Belle struggles to make it on her own while pregnant with Robert's child and Gold continues to deal with the nightmares and wonders if he wants to remember anything about that horrific night.


End file.
